I'll Never Smile Again
by Cas-Wings
Summary: When Dean and Castiel meet at a formal dance, and it's only a matter of time before they catch each other's eye. But where will this new relationship take them, in a time where homosexuality was shunned, when they are both drafted into the war? ((Set in the 1940's. The song used in this story is "I'll Never Smile Again" By Frank Sinatra. Fic cover by williamlecters. tumblr .com))
1. Attraction

Dean straightened his tie and vest, ensuring his hair was parted at just the right angle before stepping into the ornate dancing hall. The finest food, decorations, and drinks surrounded him, complimented quite nicely by beautiful women spotted throughout the ballroom.

Dean looked around, gaze falling on a beautiful woman adorned in a frame hugging red dress to match her deep crimson lips. Her soft brown hair was gently placed up in a pin, with small, curled strands falling loosely around her face, framing her fair complexion. The young man smiled, all white teeth and charm, and made his way to the girl.

"And what does a beautiful young woman like yourself go by?" He leaned back on the tall bar, letting his confidence do the talking while the girl flicked her eyes away shyly, a deep blush complimenting her light brown eyes.

She offered her hand with a smile. "Marianne."

Dean took the invitation and clasped her hand in his lightly, brushing the top of her knuckles with his lips. "Dean. It's a pleasure, Marianne."

Marianne blushed once more at the way her name rolled off his tongue like velvet, and kept her eyes and smile trained on the tall, handsome man.

"Care for a drink?" Dean offered with a charming glint to his emerald eyes, to which the girl nodded in response. He turned to signal the bar tender for two martinis, and was about to turn back to his conversation when a voice sounded towards him.

"Drinks are on me, if you like." The stranger proposed, flashing a smile of his own.

Dean turned his gaze, meeting a man with short, black hair, blue eyes, dressed in a form fitting black tuxedo; not that he took a second glance. Dean shot back a short smile. "No thanks, I think I have it covered."

The stranger shrugged, seemingly unphased by the rejection, and offered his hand. "Castiel. Castiel Novak."

Dean took his hand in a firm grasp, meeting his eyes in respectful acknowledgment. "Dean Winchester."

Castiel shook his hand, pulling away with a light brush of fingers against Dean's palm. Dean found the linger strange, but brushed it off as a simple quirk of this unknown man. The Winchester gave him another short smile as his drinks arrived, before turning back to Marianne without another word. Taking a sip of the slightly bitter alcohol, a playful glint in his eye arose as lively swing music started to come from the orchestra on stage.

"Care to dance?" Dean offered his hand once more, gaze flicking to the couples that were already joining on the floor.

Marianne nodded with enthusiasm, setting her drink on the small napkin on the bar before taking the Winchester's strong hand, letting herself be led rather quickly to the floor. Dean swung her into his arms, graceful and adept in dancing as he spun her around the space, hands on the light curve of her hips and lower back. He was quite enjoying her smile, so much so that he didn't notice an audience now formed around them, watching as he picked her up gently by the waist and swung her around, dipping her between his legs on the floor to the lively music. When the song finished, he was slightly breathless and smiling, nodding in thanks to the claps he got before turning to clap for the band.

Castiel remained at the bar when, the stranger he now placed a name to, Dean, took the unknown girl to the dance floor. He watched with admiration as this handsome man swung her around in strong, graceful movements. Pretending to watch the couple, he instead only trained his eyes on the intriguing man. A tall, broad frame complimented his strong jawline and face, which held full pink lips and bright green eyes, which Castiel was instantly drawn to. Short, sandy locks were parted just right, blending nicely with the classy looking suit he wore that night.

"Care to dance, sugar?" A slightly raspy voice asked, belonging to an older woman.

Castiel gave her a gentle smile, knowing not many guys would usually take her up on the offer. He nodded and graciously accepted, taking her hand like a true gentleman. Although she was not his type, meaning she was a woman, Castiel figured he could still have a good dance or two.

Leading her to the floor, he danced with her to an upbeat song, eye catching on the man he had met earlier occasionally as he moved around the hall. His partner was talking to him, he noticed, but was so rapid in the act he didn't get a chance to respond; not that he was wanting to. He was too distracted by the strong movements of Dean across the hall, so much so he barley noticed the song ended until claps were heard around him. He too, turned towards the stage with the rest of the crowd, directing his attention to the singer that had now stepped on stage.

"Hello everyone." The man on stage said into the microphone, which crackled only slightly. "It's now time to switch partners, and remember, whoever asks, you must dance with." He smiled with the festivity of it, stepping back to give people a chance to organize themselves.

Hearing this, Castiel instantly saw opportunity, knowing the man, Dean, probably wouldn't dance with him under any other circumstance. It would look too 'weird' to others, too 'out of place', like a disease gone awry in their systems, a mental illness to be attracted to the same sex. Shrugging off the thought, Castiel made a beeline for Dean, hoping to get there before another person led him away.

Dean nodded at Marianne and smiled, a silent thank you for the dance, a silent promise for return later in the evening. Marianne returned the smile, and turned away to look for a partner. Dean did the same, spotting another beautiful girl, already stepping her way when he was cut off by a tap to his shoulder. Turning, his curious gaze was filled with the man he had met earlier at the bar. Castiel, if he recalled correctly; such a unique name was difficult to misplace.

"May I have this dance?" He offered his hand to Dean cordially, who spluttered in response, knowing he couldn't reject. There were other guys pairing together, but most of them were just friends joking around with each other, and this man was serious.

"Uh- Sure." Dean responded, losing all his charm and grace in a matter of seconds.

Castiel happily took his hand and led them to the middle of the dance floor, of _all_ places, and turned to Dean. Dean, who was not to be deterred by such a simple action, awkwardly placed his hand in Castiel's, curling the other at his ribs, never dipping down to his hips. The slightly shorter man took Dean's limp hand gently, starting to move his feet to an apparent slow song.

'_Great._' Dean thought to himself at the music choice, ears and neck burning red at the song: "I'll Never Smile Again." Such a romantic song should be shared with a woman, he thought grudgingly. Castiel, on the other hand, smiled up at Dean, ignoring the obvious embarrassment while he started up a conversation.

"Have you been here long, Dean?" The other's name fell from his lips sweetly, which Dean took notice of.

"Just moved here actually." He tried to ignore the way his hand seemed to fit perfectly in Castiel's, banishing the thoughts; this was another _man_. "I just needed a change." He finished, slightly vague in his answer.

Castiel's eyes shone at the response as the music continued, the singer stepping up to the microphone. "I've lived here by whole life, I could show you around if you like." Castiel gave the back of Dean's hand a slight rub with his fingers, barley noticeable as his lips tugged into an inviting smile, his hips swaying with the soft, slow music while they got closer to Dean's.

"_I'll never smile again  
Until I smile at you" _The singer began to the soft instruments.

Dean cleared his throat nervously, trying to push away the electricity Castiel's fingers left on the back of his hand. He laughed halfheartedly, trying to pass off the comment as a joke. "I think I've got the lay of the land."

"_I'll never laugh again  
What good would it do?" _The song continued.

Castiel looked slightly disheartened, but the look was gone as soon as it arose. "Well, the offer still stands if you ever choose to take it." He inched closer to Dean, closing the rather large gap between them to a few inches. The Winchester flicked his eyes away, uncomfortable at the closeness, and the way he subconsciously reacted to it,_ enjoyed_ it.

"_For tears would fill my eyes  
My heart would realize." _The music was now a soft lull, for Castiel was caught up in Dean's shifting gaze.

"Is something the matter?" Castiel asked, looking straight into Dean's emerald eyes with intensity and flirtation, getting so close he could feel the body heat off of the other man.

Dean, who already had his heart rate spiked by Castiel's gaze and proximity, found himself swept up by the intense stare, and felt something pool in his stomach... Attraction? No, it couldn't be, he wasn't sick, he didn't have _that_ mental illness. Dean, flustered and confused, gave Castiel a small nod, and made his way quickly from the dance, rushing into the cool night air.

"_That our romance is through  
I'll never love again." _The faint lyrics could be heard as the brisk wind his Dean's face, quelling the burn of his awkward embarrassment.

Castiel stood in the middle of the dance floor, slightly dejected at Dean's frightened look. Castiel made his way after the man, with whom he had felt a strong connection with, of which he could not explain.

"_I'm so in love with you  
I'll never thrill again._" The singer's voice slowly faded, giving way to the rustling trees and sweet scent of the shadowed garden in the back of the large hall.

"Dean?" Castiel called into the quiet.

Dean flinched slightly at his voice and swiped a hand over his face. What had happened in there? He looked up hesitantly, meeting Castiel's blue eyes once more, apprehension filling his own.

"Dean is something wrong?" Castiel's rough, deep voice asked, and Dean did _not_ just notice how attractive it was.

"Yea, something's _wrong_." He replied, flustered and slightly rude. "What was that?" His gesture encompassed the doorway to the hall.

Castiel looked puzzled for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"You were treating me like a girl, that's what I mean." Dean began to get defensive.

"Dean..." Castiel started, moving closer to quite the conversation. "There's nothing wrong with it."

Dean, being taught his whole life that these _people_ were sick, had a disease, needed to be cured, scoffed rudely. "You need help."

Hurt flashed in Castiel's sapphire eyes, but he moved closer nonetheless. "Dean, this isn't a sickness." He reached for Dean's hand, only to have it pulled away from him. He, again, looked dejected, but continued on. "I know what you felt in there, I saw it, saw the way you looked at me."

Dean backed away, trying to reject the truth, but failing. "That wasn't- I don't-" He stumbled over the words- how could he be attracted to another _man_? He liked women... But the moment Castiel moved closer to him, when he reached up and put his hand on his arm to stop the stutter currently overtaking him, Dean couldn't deny the electricity in the touch. "No I-" But this time, Dean didn't push his hand away, some deep attraction kept him from it.

Castiel saw this, and moved closer, face mere inches from Dean's. "It's _okay,_ Dean..." He murmured softly, fingers brushing over Dean's strong forearm.

"_To somebody new  
Within my heart."_ The singing started up again, just as Castiel leaned into a stiff Dean, pressing their lips together softly.


	2. Acceptance

Dean melted into the soft kiss for half a second, reeling back into reality with arguing thoughts. Surprised at himself, confused at his reaction, he shoved Castiel back, hard, and looked to him incredulously. "I'm not like you people." He spat out, angry with himself, confused with himself, and left the small garden quickly by a side gate, heart racing.

Castiel stumbled back, almost falling, at the hard, unexpected shove, and instantly looked to Dean's face, which was twisted in anger, disbelief, and confusion. He was just about to say something when the other's harsh words registered. Castiel stuttered, not sure of what to say. It didn't matter, however, because Dean had already left, stormed out without a glance back. His eyes stung with the sudden rejection, he had felt such a connection with the other, such sparks when their lips met. He wiped a hand down his face, composing himself; it was just a fleeting feeling, a false representation of what depth love truly held. Castiel tried to reassure himself with this thought, but failed when he thought about Dean's harsh wording.

_'I'm not like you people.'_ Castiel's usually confident shoulders fell, glancing back at the illuminated hall before deciding against it. He walked out of the small garden through the same exit the Winchester disappeared into, done with the festivities.

"_I know I will never start  
To smile again  
Until I smile at you..." _The singers last words faded out softly as Castiel walked down the dark street, not sure whether he wanted to head home or simply meander around town.

Dean walked quickly down the street to his apartment building, heart pounding, mind racing. A man had just kissed him... A _man_. And he had felt something, he had felt a connection. Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, he quickly ascended the long flight of stairs and unlocked his door, stepping into the dark with a sigh of relief. He just had to forget about it, push it from his mind until it was nothing, a mere mistake of someone other than him. And that's just what he did. Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he sat at his kitchen table, downing the glass before adding another, eventually drinking himself into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

It had been three days since the garden incident, and Dean went on with his life as usual, whistling at the pretty girls, working at the pump station, just generally having a good time. However, on a sunny Tuesday morning, his routine was disrupted once more. He simply walked into the corner diner to have some breakfast, when his traveling gaze was met by the ill man, Castiel. Dean did his best to simply avoid eye contact, and sat at a nearby bar stool.

"Morning, Dean." Jo said from behind the counter. "Want some coffee? Freshly made." A smile tugged at her curvy lips.

Dean matched her smile, trying not to appear too uncomfortable at Castiel's presence. "No thanks, just some eggs this morning."

Jo nodded, calling the order to Bobby before walking over briskly to refill Castiel's coffee mug. Dean waited for the short order, tugging at his collar in discomfort while his other hand tapped on the counter lightly.

"Something on your mind, Dean?" Ellen questioned, having just come in from helping Bobby in the kitchen.

Dean met her questioning eyes with a confident smile. "Oh just ready to start the day." His answer was cheerful, but his eyes betrayed him by flicking over to Castiel, noticing the blue eyed stare training intently on him.

Ellen looked between the two, addressing both of them. "You two know each other?"

It was Castiel who answered first. "We met at the dance the other night."

At this, Dean's stomach dropped. What if he mentioned more? Thankfully, Castiel simply smiled at Ellen.

"Oh that's nice. Pick up a lot of pretty girls?" She winked at Dean, who panicked for a moment before realizing she was actually talking about girls.

Castiel smiled confidently. "I sure did, but they ran off before I could get to know them more." Dean cringed at the comment, ears burning red.

Ellen looked once again to Dean, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "You alright there Dean?"

The Winchester stuttered for a moment before answering, "Yea, I'm probably just coming down with something." He coughed, adding to the lame excuse.

Ellen shook her head with a smile. "Whatever you say, Dean. I've got to go do inventory, you have a good day." She disappeared into the back once again.

Dean sighed in relief, he was _far_ too on edge about this whole thing. It was just a mistake made by Castiel, a mistake that he, being a proper Winchester, had corrected quickly. This rational comforted him for a moment, before Castiel slid into the seat next to him.

"Dean..." He started hesitantly, clearing his throat. "About the other night..."

Dean put a hand up to stop him. "It's okay, we all make mistakes."

Hurt flashed in Castiel's eyes once more before he composed himself. "No, Dean, I'm not apologizing..." He took a moment to study Dean's reaction before continuing. "Look, I saw how you reacted at first, and I need to tell you, you don't have to be afraid of these feelings." He had lowered his voice, as to not alert the diner of their topic.

Dean flushed a deep crimson, looking to the other man incredulously. "You misjudged me then, saw what you wanted to... As I said before, I'm not mentally ill like you." Defense flashed in his emerald eyes.

Castiel's own sapphire eyes stung at the comment- how many times had he been belittled with that excuse, directly and indirectly. It hurt, and every time someone said it, it cut just _that_ much deeper. But now, Dean, the one he felt a real connection with, something he had never found in anyone else, was saying it, calling him sick, telling him how wrong he was, like he was less of a person for his decision. It hurt, and the words served to wound him deeply as he sucked in a sharp breath, pushing away the strange, unbidden tears pricking the back of his eyes. There was only so much insult and belittling one man could take, but something inside him pushed to persist. He _knew_ what he saw in Dean's features that night wasn't wishful thinking, but true emotion, and he _knew_ that Dean had softened into the kiss before shoving him back. He had gone over it time and time again over the past couple of days, and came to the conclusion that, yes, there was something there; but Dean simply wouldn't admit his attraction, for fear of rejecting what he had known his whole life.

"Dean, I-" He was cut off suddenly by Dean getting up wordlessly and going out the side door of the bright diner, a slightly chilled wind brushing into the space with his quick leave.

There Castiel sat, alone and rejected once more. He truly was ready to give up, just give it all up, because he was done trying in a society such as this. But something, again, pulled him to follow Dean. He knew he was becoming an annoyance, but he just couldn't let himself relent when he knew there was a connection between them, something strong, something profound.

Dean got up at Castiel's persistent words and walked quickly out of the diner, breakfast forgotten as he leaned against the alley wall. Why wouldn't this man stop pestering him, and why was he reacting so strongly? He was quite disturbed by the tugging in his chest, when Castiel mentioned the other night. He remembered the kiss, and how he felt a rush through his body at it. But no, it couldn't be, he had pushed that thought away days ago with some whiskey and logical reasoning. However, now the longing was back, the wondering, and it scared Dean. It scared him because he wasn't a sick person, he was normal, he liked _women_. But something about the other man's intense, bright blue eyes, and the quiet, soft spoken, straightforward manner in which he spoke, drew Dean inexplicably in, and it disturbed him. At the sound of the alley door opening again, he turned in hopes that it would simply be Ellen, Jo, or even Bobby, but no, it was Cas. Wait- since when did he call him Cas? Dean shook off the thought, averting his sight to a seemingly interesting piece of trash beside him.

"Dean..." Castiel spoke softly, as one would to a frightened animal. "Please, I can see the way your feeling. Don't push it away simply because it's not accepted." He stepped closer to the Winchester, praying he wouldn't run off, never to be seen again.

"Castiel, you have to get it, I like _women_." Even with the emphasis, Dean's argument was weak, although he didn't admit it.

Castiel, hesitant and slow, put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Just let yourself go, don't put yourself through this conflict."

Dean flinched at Castiel's hand, but seemed to not have the willpower to remove it, not anymore, and it still freaked him out. "Seriously-"

He was cut off when he lifted his eyes for emphasis, only to find Castiel's sapphire eyes mere inches from his, staring intently. Dean went weak with the gaze, the argument inside of him slowly failing at the undeniable electricity of Castiel's hand on his shoulder.

"Just let go, Dean." Castiel, ever cautious, reached his hand up to rest on the slight stubble of Dean's cheek, eyes flicking to his lips in a soft, silent question.

Dean, with the argument inside of him finally quelled by the other's actions, saw the flicker and gave a small, unsure nod. Castiel took this and slowly pressed his lips to Dean's soft, pink ones, feeling the remembered sparks let go once more. Breaking the short, chaste kiss, he looked to Dean's face, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in relenting confusion.

"See? Not sick, just different."

And Dean did see, the way he felt towards Castiel, the strong, undeniable connection, he simply stood and took in the strangeness of it. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in, and slowly opened his eyes to reveal Castiel's face, a soft smile gracing it.

"I would like to spend some more time with you." Castiel stated abruptly, running his thumb along the soft roughness of Dean's jaw.

Dean cleared his throat at the shock of all of this. Surely they couldn't go out in public, not like this, people would notice if only two men were out without girls. "We could have dinner at my apartment." His voice was scratchy, but he found himself smiling, wanting to spend more time with him as well.

Castiel nodded, a happy glint to his eye. "Thank you for accepting me Dean." He said softly, gratitude welling in his eyes. It was the first time someone accepted him for who he truly was, and it felt good, especially since it was Dean.

Dean nodded to match Castiel's, barley registering the words that came from his mouth. "Anytime. I get off of work at six, how about you come by around seven?" He quickly wrote his address on a spare piece of paper he fished from his pocket.

Castiel's eyes brightened in acceptance, backing up to let Dean out. "See you tonight then."

Dean smiled. "See you." He let his fingers linger on Castiel's hand before walking out of the alleyway, breakfast completely forgotten in the realizing haze. He had a romantic connection with another man, and somehow, he was okay with that.


	3. Date Night

Castiel was smiling the whole day through his work at the factory, anticipating the night to come. Dean had accepted him, even invited him over, now all he had to do was not mess it up. He decided to treat the situation with slow, delicate care, knowing how new Dean was to this decision, and how it would affect the mindset he had held his entire life. However, even with this plan and reasoning, Castiel continued to put himself on edge the whole day, ranging from nervousness for their meeting tonight, to happiness in remembrance of the short kiss they had shared. It went on like this until five, when all the workers were released for the day, Castiel leaving faster than usual to prepare for his date. At least, he thought it was a date. The anxious thought, although he tried to avoid it, hammered into his mind. What if Dean didn't think of this as a date? The blue eyed man shook his head of the conflict, deciding that whatever tonight was would be fine with him, because he got to spend it with Dean.

Arriving to his own apartment in less time than usual, Castiel made his way straight to the bathroom and began to fill the tub with warm water, leaving for a moment to select what he would wear. Opening the heavy wooden doors of his wardrobe, he carefully chose a black pinstripe suit with a deep blue tie, a crisp white shirt, and black leather shoes, laying them out softly onto his nearby bed. Smiling at the choices, he made his way back to the adjacent bathroom, shutting off the full tub before discarding the dirty one piece suit he wore to work. With a sigh, he sank deep into the water, wishing it would soothe his nerves as much as it was soothing his muscles...

Thinking back, Castiel knew he had appeared calm and collected to Dean, to most everyone in fact, but internally, he was always just a bit nervous, just a bit apprehensive. He supposed this was due to the amount of teasing he had taken as a child, when he unknowingly admitted his attraction for another boy. Who could blame him, he was only six years old at the time. But, as children often do, never forgot his comment, earning him the nickname 'fruit' for most of his school years. Castiel stiffened at the memories and brushed them away, grabbing the bar of soap quickly when he realized he was behind in his readying due to his thoughts. Lathering the small cleanser in his hands, he rubbed the grime of a day's work from his skin, fingers trailing over his well muscled arms and chiseled abdomen. Dipping his head into the soapy water, he roughly scrubbed his short black hair clean under the warmth. Exhaling breath when he came up from the thin liquid, Castiel stood and grabbed for a towel, drying himself while exiting the bathroom.

* * *

Dean, too, was jumpy with anticipation most of the day, not used to this new choice he had made. He hoped Castiel would enjoy tonight, because the thoughts of him messing up continued to plague his frayed mind. The end of the day couldn't come quick enough, Dean decided, and left, halfheartedly responding to a warning from his boss to be more attentive. Walking home to his apartment, Dean bathed quietly, lost in thought, before he pulled on a clean jumpsuit from work to cook in- he would select his suit later. Combing his hair to the side, Dean made his way to the kitchen, selecting steaks, potatoes, and carrots to prepare. Simple, but it was one of his best dishes. Seasoning the beef, he put it to fry in a pan slicked with butter, boiling the potatoes and carrots together while he tried not to over think this new decision.

As the meal continued to cook, Dean's thoughts turned to his dad. He would constantly tell Dean that all men should marry early, this way they would never have to cook a day in their life, because real men didn't cook, or live alone. Dean, however, never found that girl that he had a special connection with, causing him to learn on his own how to work a kitchen. Now, at twenty-three, he had just found that special connection he had been looking for; except for the fact it was with a man. At this still troubling thought, Dean's mind was flooded with a sudden memory of himself as a little boy, holding John's hand on the street.

"See that Dean?" John pointed to two men holding hands on the street. "Those men are very sick."

Dean looked up to John, innocence shining in his large green eyes. "Why, daddy?"

John sneered at the laughing couple. "They're two men, but they love each other. It's wrong Dean, very wrong. Do you understand?"

Dean nodded his small head, the first instance of his bigotry being set in his young mind.

It was the water boiling over that caught Dean out of his memories, and he quickly turned down the burner, flipping the nearly done steaks before he drained the water from the vegetables. Separating the deep orange carrots and starchy potatoes, he looked at the time, realizing Castiel would be here in less than an hour.

"Damn..." He muttered under his breath, working swiftly to mash the potatoes, season the carrots, and finish off the steak, hands flying expertly over the food. When he finished, he carefully plated the food, placing it in the oven on a low temperature to keep it warm while he went to go select his outfit. Opening his closet, he pulled out a plain black suit, a white undershirt, and a deep crimson tie, completing the smart look with black leather shoes. He pulled on the clothing in minutes, fitting the suit properly in the mirror before gelling his parted hair lightly, dabbing on a slight bit of cologne as a finishing touch. Breathing out a nervous, slightly shaking breath, he gave himself a reassuring smile in the mirror, the confident expression disappearing when a knock sounded at his door.

* * *

Castiel put a pleasant expression, once again hiding the nervousness he held within, and rapped his knuckles against the door, just under the gold apartment number. The moment Dean opened the door, his face broke into a grin, taking in everything about the other man: from his short, sandy hair, green eyes, and pink lips, to the neat tie and slight hint of cologne he could detect. "Hello, Dean."

Dean face, too, broke into a smile at Castiel's handsome appearance. Black, slightly messy hair framed his bright blue eyes, which, in turn, were complimented by the blue tie and form fitting black suit he wore. "Castiel. I'm glad you could make it." '_Of course he could make it, he agreed to come tonight_'. Dean argued internally, his nerves getting the best of him while he stepped aside, bidding the other entrance.

Castiel nodded and smiled once more, stepping into the lightly furnished, clean living space. "Something smells good." He commented cordially at the scent of food wafting in the air.

Dean beamed at the compliment, pulling out a chair at his table for Castiel, who graciously accepted and sat down.

"I'll get the food, then." Dean said, uncharacteristically clumsy in his words while he headed for the kitchen. He was quite nervous, but went with his instinct on what to do, just as he would treat a woman on a date. With this thought, he calmed a bit, realizing Castiel was simply another person, whom he just happened to enjoy having around. Dean smiled to himself at the regained confidence and opened the oven door, completely forgetting he had kept the food warm, and reached absentmindedly for the plates, instantly burning his thumb and forefinger on both hands. "Damn it!" He cursed at the unexpected pain, withdrawing his hand in an instant.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, already getting up to aid him. "What happened?"

Dean's face seemed to burn even more than his fingers when he realized Castiel had seen and heard what had happened, and he went for the faucet. "Just burned myself a little." He admitted gruffly, reaching for the cold water handle, surprised by a large hand on his mid back.

"Here, Dean, let me help." Castiel said softly, gently picking up his hands to examine the reddened flesh. Smiling up at the obviously embarrassed man, he reached over and turned the handles to create warm water, and gently pulled Dean's hands under the stream of water, rubbing the burned area in light circles. "Warm water won't shock the skin, so it'll heal faster." He explained, rubbing his fingers tenderly over Dean's, barley taking second thought at the close proximity.

Dean, however, was stunned at the forward actions of Castiel, but did nothing to stop him, enjoying the small gesture that made his pulse spike. "Thanks, Cas." He said, voice soft which the nickname, of which he didn't notice slip past his lips.

Castiel smiled gently, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dab gently at Dean's hands. "Since when was it Cas?"

Dean's ears burned at the realization, and stuttered to find an answer. He himself didn't quite know why he had called him that, it had just seemed so seemed natural.

Castiel chuckled softly. "I don't mind, Dean." He finished drying his hands, dabbing lightly at the now pink skin gently once more, hands remaining in the other's. Meeting Dean's eyes, he smiled gently, eyes flicking down momentarily to his lips.

Dean noticed the shift in his gaze, and his breath caught in his throat at their close proximity in the small kitchen, warm yellow light cascading over them from the single lamp above. Dean looked down to their joined hands and looked back up, leaning closer. "Thanks, Cas." His let out a soft sigh when their lips met, soft and sweet. Dean could still taste the slight mint of Castiel's toothpaste, and decided they would have to do this more often.

Castiel smiled up at Dean, eyes opening slowly after the short kiss broke. "Time to eat?" The edges of his mouth tugged into a small smile.

Dean returned the expression, nodding silently. "Yeah, I guess it is." He moved to the oven, opening it once more, this time remembering to protect his hands when he pulled out their steaming food. Motioning to the small table, he balanced the plates carefully.

Castiel looked to Dean with admiration at the meal, blue eyes shining when the plate was set before him. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean nodded, sitting himself down across from Castiel. "Just watch the plate, it's hot." He joked lightly, glad to see the small laugh he produced from the other.

The dinner turned out better than expected, Dean discussing his love for cars and swing music, Castiel talking about his love for books and the beach, which he had only visited once when he was a boy. The meal, that Castiel had dubbed "amazing", was finished far too quickly for them, both lingering over coffee far after plates had been cleaned and jackets were discarded. When Castiel finally looked up, it was nearly ten, and he drank down the rest of the slightly bitter drink reluctantly.

"I better get going here, my boss won't be happy if I'm late again."

Dean chuckled in empathy, nodding as he, too, noticed the time. Getting up, he moved around the table to pull out Castiel's chair for him, being the gentleman he was, and held his suit jacket up.

Castiel graciously accepted the help, and shrugged into the jacket, buttoning it with careful precision, squinting slightly. Heading to the door, he turned to the slightly taller man. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Dean."

Dean nodded with a smile. "Anytime." Suddenly, getting caught up in that wide, sapphire stare, Dean cupped the back of Castiel's neck and pulled him in, lips sealing together in perfect sync. Deepening the kiss, Dean held the feeling rushing through his veins, and moved his mouth against Castiel's slowly, savoring the taste of coffee, steak, and something that was purely Cas underneath. Pulling away, he found his voice. "Really, anytime."

Castiel leaned up to give him another light kiss. "I'm going to take you up on that offer, Winchester."

"Fine by me." Dean gave him one last smile, beginning to open the door when Castiel pulled him into a tight embrace.

Moving into him, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, sighing in contentment at the closeness.

"Thank you." Castiel whispered quietly, leaving with a smile thrown over his shoulder. Walking down the small flight of stairs and out into the crisp night, Castiel breathed out a sigh of relief, never remembering himself happier than at this very moment. Dean accepted him, and seemed to enjoy his company, something Castiel didn't get often. The whole walk home, his wide smile didn't waver, thoughts of the night running continuously through his head.


	4. Relief

Dean had never had a happier three months in his entire life. He saw Castiel almost everyday, whether it was going to the lake or simply staying at home to listen to the radio, he was happy in his embrace. Even though it was kept hidden from the public, their friends, even their families, in protection from public ridicule, their relationship grew into something Dean never would have expected, and the connection they shared only grew stronger with the passing time. That is, until he got the letter.

It was a simple, normal workday, and Dean came home to a small pile of bills in his mailbox, everything seemed routine. Sifting through the pile of mail, he entered his apartment, eyes flicking down at the envelopes again only to notice a dark red stamp, the United States government seal. At the sight, Dean's heart dropped to his stomach, instantly knowing the nature of the letter, because there was only one reason you got a letter like this. The war. Frowning, he tore open the envelope, removing the contents quickly to confirm his suspicions.

_Dean Alexander Winchester,_

_You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri on July 14 at 12:00pm for training to become part of the United States Armed Forces. Service is mandatory._

_Signed_

_Franklin D. Roosevelt, United States President_

Dean finished scanning over the words, and slumped into a nearby kitchen chair, absorbing the shock of the news. It wasn't as if he feared going to war, his father had been in the tail end of WWI, he was certainly used to the idea. No, his shock and dread was concerning Cas. How would he tell him that he was going off to war, how would he tell him he but had two weeks left before his departure? Letting out a shaky breath, Dean let the letter drop to the floor at his feet, putting his head in his hands. "Oh Cas..." He apologized softly to the empty silence surrounding him.

Castiel came home from work, happily getting ready for his date by cleaning up a bit to prepare for Dean's arrival. Combing through his mussed hair after a bath, he heard mail slip through the slot in his door, and strode across his apartment to fetch it. Shuffling through it mindlessly, he searched for a letter from the local newspaper, as he had recently applied for a job. Instead of the wanted mail, however, his eyes settled upon the same dark red stamp, and he, too, new instantly what it meant. Shaking his head in denial, he dropped all the other mail to his feet, removing the single piece of paper to read.

_Castiel James Novak,_

_You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri on July 14 at 12:00pm for training to become part of the United States Armed Forces. Service is mandatory._

_Signed_

_Franklin D. Roosevelt, United States President_

Castiel paled slightly at the words, completely forgetting his happy mood to have Dean over. This news, it was life altering, to go and serve one's country in battle. Castiel also did not fear the war, but the fact he had to tell Dean. He had slowly but surely brought Dean away from his fear, and had showed him that love and attraction holds no bounds. He had showed him that loving another man wasn't wrong or bad, it was natural and good, and now he would have to leave him. He would have to leave Dean, the one person he had found to love in a very long time, the one person who accepted him for who he was, flaws and goodness.

A worried frown tugged at his lips as he picked up the rest of his dropped mail, storing the stomach dropping letter in it's envelope, hidden in his suit jacket. He would have to tell Dean tonight, if he wanted to truly enjoy the last two weeks he had with him. Sighing, he composed himself, and made a small amount of coffee for the both of them. After fifteen minutes of careful planning of how he would break the news to Dean, Castiel heard the familiar three knocks on his door, the sound alone bringing a smile to his face, before he remembered instantly what he had to do. But, nonetheless, he kept the smile, which only grew brighter at the sight of Dean, who he let in, closing the door behind them.

"Hello Dea-" He was suddenly cut off by Dean pulling him close and capturing his lips in a deep, heated, passionate kiss, fingers carding through his soft, dark hair.

"Hello Cas." Dean smiled at him after breaking the kiss, loving the sated expression on Castiel's face.

"Miss me?" Castiel teased after a moment, taking Dean's jacket and discarding his own on the adjacent rack before heading to the kitchen to grab the coffee. Black, two sugars, just as they both enjoyed it.

Dean smiled, sitting on the couch comfortably, internally nervous and saddened at the news he had for Castiel. "Of course I missed you."

Castiel smiled at the response, turning the radio on a low volume before sitting close to Dean, handing the strong coffee to him. Dean smiled thanks, and they both sat in silence for a few minutes, both unknowingly internally dreading the same unfortunate news.

"Cas..." Dean started, putting down his coffee to face the other, lacing his fingers into his.

Castiel shook his head with a small smile, cutting Dean off for the moment. "Dean, listen."

He motioned to the radio, where 'I'll Never Smile Again' had just come on. Dean listened for a moment, instantly recognizing the slow, smooth progression of instruments, the familiar lyrics hitting him with memories of their first meeting, their first kiss. He gave Castiel a grateful smile and pulled him into his chest, sitting quietly to enjoy the song, enjoy the happy moment while he could. Castiel leaned into Dean's strong chest, practically curling up next to him as the soft music quelled his nervous hesitation.

_"Within my heart_

_I know I will never start_

_To smile again_

_Until I smile at you."_

The last lyrics played out, bringing special meaning to Castiel, for he knew he would never be truly happy until his service was through, and he got to see Dean's bright smile once more, when he was back safe in his arms. When the song ended, Dean shifted and Castiel sat up, facing Dean.

"Dean, before you say whatever it is you need to say, I have some news..." He quickly went serious, looking at Dean's face, which looked concerned in the matter of seconds.

"Anything, Cas." Castiel smiled sadly at the nickname and let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding in, and simply took the letter from his suit jacket, handing the slip to Dean, deciding against a long explanation. Dean looked puzzled for a moment, face falling when he saw the letter, so much so that Castiel could barley hold his eyes to the other's. But then, much to Castiel's surprise, as Dean's eyes quickly scanned the letter, his face broke into a small, sad smile, with a hint of... Relief? No, it couldn't be. Castiel's heart sunk when he further studied Dean's expression, it was a look of relief, and a bit of happiness.

"Dean...?" Castiel started, eyes filling with betrayal at Dean's reaction. He hadn't expected him to cry or anything, but this apparent happiness was puzzling, and it hurt.

Dean shook his head at Cas, knowing how this must look, and pulled his own crumpled letter from his jacket, handing it to Castiel shakily, who took it, now puzzled, before a look of understanding and relief crossed his features as well.

"We're going to the same place Cas, we're going to be in the same platoon." Dean smiled out at the fortunate occurrence, letting out a small chuckle of relief. He was still worried at the news, still slightly reluctant to leave behind his life, but knew duty and honor bound him to his country, to serve, protect, and defend.

Castiel's face broke into a relieved grin, he wouldn't have to be separated from Dean after all. The unexpected news shocked him, yes, but it was far better than what he had originally thought this night would turn to be.

"Dean..." He breathed out, his eyes stinging with happy relief as he pulled the Winchester in for a soft, sweet kiss.

Dean cupped either side of Castiel's slightly rough cheeks, kissing him back gently before he deepened the kiss, tongue gently playing at the edge of his lips, begging entrance to the expanse of Castiel's warm mouth. Castiel instantly complied, letting his tongue mingle with with Dean's, sucking in a sharp breath though his nose at the passion, Dean's lips were slightly chapped against his own, the slight stubble he had scratching lightly against his chin.

In a move of spontaneity, Dean pulled Castiel into his lap, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's form, rubbing light massage into his strong back. At the movement, Castiel felt a rush go straight to his crotch, heat and pleasure at the deep way Dean was kissing him, hungrily embracing him. Breaking the kiss, Castiel looked into Dean's eyes, which already held slightly bigger pupils.

"Are you sure, Dean?" He asked hesitantly, knowing where it seemed this was headed. Dean had always wanted to wait until they took the final step in their relationship, as he was still adjusting to the idea.

Dean met his emerald eyes with Castiel's sapphire orbs, nodding wordlessly, tongue darting out to wet his now dry lips. "Yeah, Cas, I'm sure." He reassured in a slightly lower, husky voice, rubbing his thumbs along the slight jut of Castiel's hip bones.

At the consent, Castiel sealed his lips roughly with Dean's, tasting coffee, sugar, and something that was purely Dean underneath, it was intoxicating, addictive, and arousing. At the movement of Dean's hands to run along his taut abdomen, Castiel sucked in a shuddered breath and instinctively rolled his hips down into Dean's, his own erection meeting Dean's.

Dean let out a soft breath at the movement, and moved his hands to undo Castiel's deep blue tie, fingers fumbling with the fabric as he moved his lips to kiss along his stubble covered jawline; which elicited a small moan from Castiel, a sound Dean instantly loved and craved. Slipping the clothing off, he quickly undid the buttons on Castiel's shirt, hands instantly exploring the soft, milky skin that was stretched tight over the small grooves and curves of his muscle.

"Dean..." Castiel breathed at the soft touch and kisses, moving his own mouth to suck and bite lightly at his neck, teeth worrying and bruising the sensitive skin lightly before he relieved the slight pain with pleasurable flicks of his tongue, tugging at Dean's tie in turn.

"Too much clothing..." The slightly shorter man muttered, disposing of Dean's tie to a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, taking off both of their shirts in quick succession. Letting out another low, soft moan of contentment, Castiel moved his hips against Dean's, skin flush against the other's chest.

Dean gripped softly at Castiel's bare back, fingers gliding over the soft curve of his spine down to the waistline of his belted pants while he moving his head to the side to allow Castiel's teeth better access to graze against his skin. Letting out a groan at the gentle biting, he ran his calloused hands to the front of Castiel's lower abdomen, fingers tugging desperately at the black belt. "I want to see you..." Dean murmured, beginning to undo the belt before Castiel's hands stilled his.

"Let's take this somewhere more comfortable." Castiel breathed into the nape of the Winchester's neck, his erection twitching when Dean already began to move.

He had planned on getting up and leading Dean to the bedroom, but it seemed Dean had other plans when he gripped Castiel's ass through the black, pinstripe slacks and heaved him up effortlessly from the couch, making his way to the bedroom as he nipped along the length of the other's collarbone. Castiel gripped Dean tightly through the short trip, appreciating his strong, lightly freckled shoulders, running his nails along his shoulder blades before he was set gently on the bed, Dean instantly hovering over him.

"So beautiful..." Dean muttered, lust hooding his dark eyes as he ran his eyes along Castiel's form, taking in his pert nipples, light muscle, and slightly jutting hip bones, complimented nicely by a soft dusting of hair leading into his slacks, which held a sizable, obvious length.

Castiel writhed on the bed under Dean's gaze, cock twitching at the sight as he pulled Dean down onto him. A gasp escaped his throat when his length instantly found Dean's, his hips rolling up in desperate need for friction. With a desperate moan at the confining clothing, Castiel gripped Dean's tight ass through the thin slacks and ground against him, tongue battling and teeth clacking with hot, needy pleasure.

"Off." Castiel commanded gruffly, tugging at Dean's belt.

Dean complied happily, tugging off his slacks before reaching up to pull Castiel's off, moving to climb back on top of him when Castiel put a hand on his chest.

"Dean please..." He begged, motioning to their boxers, his now forming a small wet spot at the swollen head of his erection.

Dean nodded, tugging off his own boxers, flushed cock slapping against his stomach lightly as he pulled off Castiel's. Raking his eyes slowly from Castiel's ankles to his head, groaning at the sight of him fully naked, face flushed and lips parted, eyes hooded with lust; abdomen heaving under his gaze, hard cock pearling precome. The Winchester let out a soft sigh, hesitantly dipping his head in between Castiel's legs, the strong scent of arousal going straight to his crotch.

Castiel put a hand in Dean's hair. "You don't have to do that, Dean." He reassured.

Dean looked up to Castiel, and a jolt of love and adoration for him rushing through his veins. Cas was willing to give up his own pleasure for the sake of his comfort. Smiling softly, Dean flicked his eyes back down to Castiel's arousal, mouth watering inexplicably at the sight. "I want to, Cas." He said huskily, hesitantly reaching his tongue out to flick at the head, tasting the salty-sweet combination of the sticky natural lube. He had never done this before, only once with a girl, but something about it felt right, natural, and he slowly wrapped his mouth around the soft head.

Castiel gasped at the sudden sensation of Dean's pink lips wrapping around him and arched his back, trying not to thrust desperately into the hot expanse of Dean's mouth as he felt his tongue swirl around his slit, felt him flick it along the sensitive underside of his head before the Winchester hollowed out his cheeks to bob his head slowly.

"Dean..." Castiel groaned, sifting the now mussed, lightly gelled hair through his fingers, watching through lust blown pupils at Dean moving along his entire length with the perfect amount of suction. Castiel tugged his lower lip into his teeth, biting back the overwhelming pleasure before one of Dean's strong fingers pressed experimentally at his entrance. He instantly responded, grinding his hips down onto the hesitant finger, the sensation too much as a loud moan rumbled in his throat.

"Are you sure?" Castiel breathlessly asked once more, knowing Dean had never done anything of this sort.

At Dean's almost instantaneous nod to the question, Castiel reached over to his drawer to pull out a small carton of Vaseline, which Dean quickly made use of.

He had never done anything like this with a man before, obviously, but he knew the mechanics of it. Slicking his finger, Dean lowered his mouth back onto Castiel's cock, pressing his first knuckle gently into Cas' tight entrance, surprised at the intense, writhing reaction he got. Smirking light around his erection, Dean tongued Castiel's slit, and slid his finger in up to his knuckle, experimentally curling the digit around until Castiel let out a pleasured yelp.

"Dean, just do it... Please..." Castiel asked, completely wrecked while he ground himself down onto Dean's hand.

Dean nodded, taking the Vaseline to slick up his own dick, which was now aching from neglect. Throwing his head back, he bit down a low moan as he placed his hands into Castiel's lining himself up gently with his loosened entrance. Pushing slowly, he got the head of his thick arousal into the tight heat of Castiel, head ducking to bite down at the blue eyed man's pulse point with a growl at the feeling.

Castiel rolled his hips into Dean's, a silent plea to continue as he bore the sensitive flesh of his neck by tilting his head to the side. Dean noticed and rubbed his thumbs lightly along the side of Castiel's hands, pushing slowly and oh so gently until he was completely encased in him, heavy balls against his entrance.

"Oh god..." Dean groaned out, moving slowly out only to thrust back in a moment later, eliciting a delicious gasp from Castiel.

Encouraged, and already close himself, Dean began to move faster, sheathing his cock in and out of Castiel as he captured his lips in a perfect, hot kiss, biting as his bottom lip roughly. "F-Fuck..." He cursed, hips moving erratically within his lover, Castiel's hips moving off the bed to meet him. Dean knew he was close, and removed one of his hands from where it was holding Castiel's to reach between them and stroke his cock in time with his thrusts, having Castiel panting and writhing under him in seconds.

"D-Dean...!" Castiel cried out, unable to hold back any longer when he came in hot, white spurts all over his hand and abdomen at the sensation of Dean's finger rubbing against his sensitive head, his cock rubbing at his prostate. Vision whiting out, he dug his nails into the meaty flesh of Dean's palms and rode out his orgasm, every nerve ignited with the feeling.

At Castiel's cry of his name, Dean thrust but twice more before his own orgasm overtook him, releasing fast and hot into Castiel as his vision, too, went white with the intensity, every muscle spasming with the rolls of pleasure running through his veins. Collapsing beside his lover, Dean panted, pulling out gently only to pull Cas close seconds later, hot breath heavy against his mussed, dark hair, some of which had stuck to his forehead.

"I love you, Dean." Castiel said suddenly, voice hoarse from the intensity.

Dean met Castiel's eyes with a small, sated smile. "I love you too, Cas." It was the first time they had acknowledged it to one another, but the time felt right. They were not going to be separated, had taken the final step in their relationship, and Dean had finally found the one person he wished to spend the rest of his life with. At the smile, Castiel gently cupped the back of Dean's slightly damp neck and pulled him in for a gentle kiss on their swollen, red lips, eyes already heavy in post orgasmic fatigue.

Dean kissed back gently, happy, satisfied, and completely enamored with everything that Castiel was. Eyelids soon became too heavy for the both of them, and they fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, loving relief washing over the dreamless sleep.


	5. Promises

Castiel gently packed his bag, taking a few pieces of paper, some writing utensils, a few plain white under garments, and a small picture of Dean, in case they were ever separated, and placed it in the bag. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face, turning towards the mirror. He looked himself over, taking in his small bone structure, the lean muscle over his torso, his small wrists, slender fingers. Yeah, definitely not cut out for war.

He would be lying if he said he didn't harbor any hesitation towards the idea, he had always been the type to stay home, do quiet activities. He supposed that was also the reason he was ridiculed throughout school, called 'fruit', was because he enjoyed to stay indoors, be with his mother, not do what all the other boys wanted to do. He never really got muddy, never chased girls around with bugs, never climbed a tree only to fall out and get a bad scrape; he was simply quiet. However, he didn't regret the way he spent his childhood, and cherished the memories he had with his mother, glad he spent his time with her.

She, too, was a quiet person, and looking back, Castiel reasoned it was probably the way their father left them, although he was too young to remember, it had been hard on his mother. She was such a sweet person, always smiling softly, dark hair always a bit off, blue eyes always a bit grayer than his. Castiel would often think back and smile, one particular memory reoccurring whenever he would feel vulnerable or ridiculed.

"Castiel, you listen here." His mother would say, soft but firm in her words as she tended to a scrape on his knee, which he obtained from the rowdy, mean boys down the street.

Castiel would nod, looking with wide, curious blue eyes to his mother to hear her words.

"Don't you ever let anyone tell you what you can and can't be. As long as your not hurting anyone, your choices are your own, and you do whatever makes you happy, don't let anyone ever tell you different." She would say, putting a slender finger under his chin to look in his eyes gently.

Castiel, again, silent and thoughtful, would nod, enjoying the soft, comforting perfume that his mother wore when she pulled him close, a kiss placed on the soft black hair on top of his small head.

Castiel smiled at the memory to himself, reopening his small satchel bag to place a picture of his mother in next to Dean's. "He makes me happy, momma, and I won't let anybody tell me different." He said to her picture, closing the satchel gently, sitting gently on his bed to rest before Dean's arrival, before their departure to the camp.

* * *

Dean, too, had saved his packing for the last minute, not wanting to think about going off to war. Still, he did not feel necessarily frightened by the notion of war. No, the thing that frightened him was the fact he may turn out like his father. John had been through the first world war, and it had not served him well. He turned to be a gruff, uncaring, spiteful man, constantly ensuring Dean was a man, Dean was molded to his standards. He always believed Dean would turn out the perfect model of a man, always believed his parenting was the right way, strict and harsh, but never knew that instead of building his son up, making him strong, he beat him down with his constant drills, expectations, and standards to meet, made him weak. And that weakness that Dean felt, had always felt, he had to cover, cover from his father, and eventually covered it from himself.

If Dean were to look inside of himself, remove the mask he wore, be himself, he would realize he was frightened, he didn't want to ship off, didn't want to leave his comfortable life. But no, that wasn't the man Dean Winchester was. So, instead of keeping the thoughts going to somewhere he didn't want, he folded the small amount of clothing sloppily, shoving it into the bag with a bit of slightly crumpled paper and a pencil. Stopping his rough packing, he gently picked up the small picture of Castiel he had from when they had exchanged the two photographs, and placed it neatly in his satchel. He was forgetting something, and the nagging feeling grew until he looked around his room, eyes falling on the small, framed picture of his brother, Sam.

"Guess it was just my time to serve, huh, Sammy?" He said to the inanimate face, placing it even more gently next to Castiel's picture.

Sighing, the unbidden memories of his brother flooded his mind. Sam, toddling around the house, asking Dean where daddy was whenever he would be at his ten hour work shift... Sam, coming home, red faced and smiling after playing hide and seek with the neighborhood boys... The call Dean got, his father's breaking voice at the other end, telling Dean about the accident... Sam had been hit by a car on his way to school, he hadn't made it. The news had crushed Dean, and he instantly blamed his father. John had never watched out for Sam, always left it to Dean, so when Dean moved out, John was never really there, never really watching Sam.

Dean had not spoken to his father in five years, and had no desire to, didn't want to face the hate, or his own guilt. If only he hadn't moved out, if only he had been there for Sammy... But no, he wouldn't think about that, not now. Zipping up the satchel roughly, he headed out his door, taking one last look around his apartment, not knowing when he would see it again. Sighing, he walked down the stairwell, said a short goodbye to the kind old landlady, and walked to Castiel's in the dark of early morning, nerves jumping in his stomach lightly before he pushed the feeling down.

* * *

Castiel answered the door to Dean's knocks, giving him an understanding, empathetic smile, wanting to savor their last hour together of closeness, they wouldn't be able to show romantic affection after this. "Hello, Dean." He greeted, as he had for the past four months, and closed the door to pull Dean into a deep, loving kiss.

"Hi, Cas." Dean gave him a small smile and another kiss, just on the corner of his lips, leading him by his hand to the adjacent plush couch.

Castiel sat with him, resting his head on Dean's shoulder and twining their fingers together. "Dean..." He started, hesitant.

Dean noticed his tone and glanced over, running a thumb over the back of his hand. "What is it, Cas?"

Castiel let out a sigh, meeting Dean's eyes. "I'm scared, Dean." The words themselves sounded weak, but in Castiel's voice they were strong, unwavering, an admittance he obviously wasn't ashamed to make to the other man, who nodded, urging him on gently. Castiel noticed the small nod and continued, bolder. "I don't want to leave, don't want to go put myself in harm's way, put you in harms way. I don't want to be ridiculed, I don't want to be the runt of the group, I don't want to be myself Dean... Not around all those guys who were raised to be tough, hard shells of men." He flicked his eyes away with the quick and fumbled admittance, half ashamed of the truth, half glad he had told someone.

Dean's mouth creased in sympathy for Castiel, and he put his arm around him, pulling him to his chest, running his free hand lightly through the other man's short dark hair. "I know, Cas. I know... But the chances of getting hurt are small, we'll be safe."

Castiel shook his head, sitting up to meet Dean's eyes once more, still holding his hand. "No, Dean, even that small chance is a risk I don't want to take." He thought for a moment, eyes flicking to his satchel. "Dean, you make me happy, more than anyone else ever has. You accept my differences, and ever since my momma..." He paused, lips pressing together in pain, adam's apple bobbing. "Ever since my mother died, you're the only one who loves me for me. When she was taken from me, when that brain tumor finally got to be too much, I was passed around, family after family, and no one ever wanted me, not truly, none of the families ever wanted me, always found some sort of displeasing flaw in me."

Tears welled in Castiel's eyes, which he was trying his best to keep at bay, clenching his jaw in an attempt to collect himself. "And when I saw you, that night at the dance, I decided that I would try one more time to be accepted, because I saw that spark in you, a compassion, a caring, similar to the one my mother had. When you accepted me, at the diner all those months ago, your eyes shone with happiness, happiness for me, and I can't even begin to describe how much that means to be, to be loved and accepted, especially by you." A few tears slipped down his fair cheeks, which he strongly tried to ignore. "I just can't bear the thought of losing the one other person in my life that has loved me. Dean, I just can't bear the thought of losing you, even if it is a small possibility."

Dean's eyes softened at the admittance, consistently rubbing the back of Castiel's hand through the obviously difficult words. "Cas..." He said softly, blinking back his own sorrow and moving a hand up to softly wipe away his pain filled tears, thumb running over both his damp cheek bones. "You won't lose me, I won't let it happen. I swear to you, I will keep safe, keep you safe, and we'll come home together, we'll have a life together." He set his jaw at his rising emotion. "When my brother died, when Sammy died... I couldn't handle it, it was all my fault, I wasn't there to protect him. If I would have been there, I would have walked him to school, I would have saved him from that car. It was my fault he died, because I wasn't there." He roughly wiped away his own tears that were threatening to fall. "And I won't let that happen again Cas, I would let anything happen to you, I'll protect you. I promise you, we'll be happy together." He met Castiel's watery blue eyes, uncomfortable with the emotions, but knew Castiel needed empathetic support.

Castiel leaned into Dean's soft touch, his gentle movements drawing away the damp evidence of his grief. Hearing Dean's words, the reassurance, the guilt, the promise, he let out a choked sob, pulling him close. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean's hands clutched at the back of Castiel's suit, holding him tight, not wanting to let go of the moment he knew wouldn't be able to come for months. "Anything for you Cas, I promise."

Castiel pulled back, cupping one of Dean's cheeks softly in his flat palm, eyebrows coming together in grateful sadness. "I love you, Dean. I always will."

Dean nodded. "I love you too Cas." With the soft words, he pulled him in for another kiss, this one soft, sweet, light, and barely there, just enough to reassure Castiel that he wasn't leaving, he would never leave. When the kiss broke, Dean's eyes slunk, dreading, to the clock, which read 5am. "We have to go, Cas, the train is gonna be here in a half hour and we're barely going to make it to the camp at this rate."

Castiel nodded, squeezing Dean's hand lightly before grabbing his small satchel to swing over his shoulders, Dean doing the same before they both headed to the door. Dean reached for the handle, only to have Castiel's hand stop him short. The slightly taller man looked up to question, only to be silenced by Castiel pulling him back to wrap his arms around his torso, head resting against Dean's chest, dark hair laying gently against his shoulder.

"No matter what happens, I'll never stop loving you." Castiel murmured.

Dean pulled him close, strong arms encircling the man he loved. "Me too, Cas... Me too." He said quietly, voice breaking with emotion.

They stood there for a few minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, rocking gently while they embraced the moment, committing it to memory. It was Castiel who broke the embrace, this time, and reached for the door, swinging it open after a final, electrifying kiss with Dean. Walking down the short hallway, they went out into the early, dull light of morning, a crisp, cold spring morning breeze brushing past their cheeks. Huffing and walking briskly, they arrived at the station just in time for the conductor to call the all aboard.

There to say final goodbyes, Ellen, Jo, and Bobby pushed through the small, gathered crowd to approach them, worry creasing each of their features individually.

"You be safe out there, you boys here me?" Ellen said, slightly strict in her words before pulling them both into a hug which they returned gratefully.

Jo did the same after her mother, placing a light kiss on Castiel's cheek. "You both come home healthy, alright?" Her lips pursed slightly with worry as her eyes flicked back and forth to meet theirs, to which they both nodded.

"We will." Castiel reassured, putting a hand on her shoulder before she went to go stand with her mother.

Finally, Bobby came to face both of them."I don't want you idgits comin' back all bloody, it's too much stress. Keep your wits about you, and don't fall behind." Bobby said gruffly, saying in his own way how much he cared, conveying it in his eyes as he looked to both of them, clapping them both on the shoulder. "You'll do great." He reassured, going to stand with Ellen and Jo to watch them depart.

Dean and Castiel both gave them smiles, acting as good friends while they boarded the train, sitting together comfortably after they stored their small amount of luggage.

"So this is really happening..." Castiel breathed, looking a bit nervous.

Dean nodded, looking around the relatively empty train before grabbing Castiel's hand to give it a quick squeeze, the gesture gone in secret as soon as it began. Castiel gave him a smile, leaning back into the worn chairs, waving to their friends as the train gave a lurch, pulling from the station all too quickly. Boot camp. War. No way to go but forward, forward with Dean, together in the arduous task. At least they were together.


	6. Travel and Training

The train moved along the tracks for a while, Castiel looking out the window at the passing trees, content to watch the sun illuminate their brittle branches, which had leaves just beginning to bud on them. He sighed, happy to enjoy the simple things, happy to have the beauty of nature, no matter where he went. He found that nature, in itself, was a beautiful thing, ever constant, like his admiration and adoration for Dean.

When his thoughts turned to Dean, his gaze also turned, sight breaking from the nature he loved to the person he loved. "Are you doing alright, Dean?" Castiel asked gently, knowing Dean had a bit of an issue with being on trains.

Dean looked up from where he was fiddling with his hands, nerves instantly calmed by the sight of Castiel's bright, soft blue eyes. "Yeah, Cas, I'll be fine. This isn't so bad."

Castiel smiled at the answer, squeezing Dean's forearm in a seemingly friendly gesture, although they both knew it was more than that. It was a reassurance of love, a contact of silent affirmation to the promise they had made earlier that morning. Castiel opened his mouth to talk, only to be cut off by two young men seating themselves in the seats across from them, looking no older than either Dean or Cas.

Dean, being the social person he was, extended a hand to them both. "Hi. Dean Winchester." He said, shaking both their hands.

"Gabriel. This is Dylan." The shorted stranger said, motioning to the man next to him, who nodded with a slight smile.

"And this is Castiel." Dean answered, only after looking to Cas for the go ahead.

"Castiel? As in Castiel Novak? Well I'll be damned." The taller man, who they now knew as Dylan, said rather obnoxiously, reaching over to shake Castiel's hand, seeming friendly.

Dean looked over to Castiel, only to see him force a genuine looking smile, Dean seeing right through his polite ruse.

"Yeah." Castiel said, forcing the smile he knew Dean had noticed. "Dylan. I remember you, we went to school together."

"Good times." Dylan said, still a bit too loud to be polite to others around them. "How's life, fruit? God I'd remember that nickname anywhere, Cassie." He joked, slapping Castiel on his tensed bicep.

Dean noticed Castiel stiffen and watched his brow furrow in offense as the corner of his mouth twitched, obviously reacting badly to the nickname. "Yeah, good times." Castiel forced out, obviously wanting to change the topic.

"Hey, so where are you guys headed?" Dean interjected, hoping to help Castiel out of the uncomfortable confrontation with the adjacent man.

It was who they now knew as Gabriel who answered. "Actually, we both got drafted, so we're heading off to Fort Leonard. Gonna go spend some time with the pretty nurses." He joked, waggling his eyebrows.

Dean smiled politely at the joke, settling back into his seat. "We're actually going to Fort Leonard as well. Both got drafted." Castiel smiled lightly, nodding in affirmation of Dean's words.

"Well that's great, hopefully we'll all get into the same platoon." Gabriel said friendlily.

Dean smiled enthusiastically, followed by Castiel's light nod. "So what do you guys do?" Dean asked, eventually carrying on the conversation to mechanics when he found both the other two men enjoyed cars.

Disinterested, Castiel turned his gaze back to the passing trees, trying to push down the offense he had taken at the old nickname, old feelings of rejection and humiliation filling him as he rested his head against the slightly bumpy window, the light and gentle swaying of the train lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Three hours passed, the sun slowly making it's way to the top of the sky as Dean got to know the two men sitting across from them, occasionally flicking his eyes to check on Cas, who seemed to be catching up on much needed sleep.

"Looks like we're here." Gabriel said, a slight smirk playing on his lips, brought on by excitement concerning the unknown.

Dean's stomach suddenly knotted when he looked outside, the run down train station seeming small next to the camp on the horizon, an American flag fluttering in the breeze, groups of men jogging around the base. Dean knew, that under any other circumstances, Cas would have stood in the meadow beside the station, enjoying the warm sun, the cool spring breeze as it played in his hair, eyes crinkling at the edges with a bright smile as he looked to the clouds. Dean would miss that smile, suspecting he wouldn't see it often now, now they were forced into this, forced into something Dean knew Cas was uncomfortable with.

At this thought, his own feelings fought their way to the surface, and he suddenly felt weak and nervous, pushing the emotions down as soon as they rose to give Gabriel and Dylan a nod, reassuring them they would catch up. Once the pair had left, Dean turned to Castiel in the nearly empty train, looking around before slipping his hand over his, the action covered by the seat's arm rest "Cas, we're here."

Castiel woke almost instantly from the hand he knew so well slipping into his, turning his gaze to meet Dean's, giving him a small smile. "Hello, Dean." He greeted, as he had for the short amount of time he had been with the man he loved.

Dean smiled at the greeting and grabbed their satchels, handing Castiel's his, fingers lingering on his hand. "Can't put it off any longer." He shrugged, a sad smile playing on his lips as they left the train, Castiel nodding in agreement, eyes downcast for most of the walk to the camp. When they arrived at the front office, still in silence, Dean pulled Castiel aside. "Cas. Look at me."

Castiel complied, lifting his worried blue eyes to Dean's emerald ones.

"Look, I know this is new, but if we show weakness, we're just going to get picked on. They need to see us as strong." Dean hated what he was saying, because he sounded so much like his father, but it needed to be said, because he promised to protect Cas.

Castiel nodded, lips tugging into a believing frown at his words. He couldn't be weak, he had to be strong, past weaknesses be damned. But the fact that Dean, without even thinking, took it upon himself to protect Castiel, to promise him safety, a good life, made him feel stronger. "Thank you, Dean." He said with sincerity. Although all they had done since the draft letters was reveal fears and insecurities, it somehow made this whole process easier, now that Castiel had someone to rely on, no matter what happened.

Dean smiled, eyes flicking to a rough looking man leaning on the office doorway, watching their close conversation with scrutiny. "Anytime. Now let's get going, old guy over there's got us on his radar." He smiled over his shoulder at the man, who only frowned more at the expression. "Come on, with an frown like that, it won't be all bad." He joked, slapping Cas on the shoulder in a show of friendship for their onlooker.

Castiel smiled, shooting the expression at the veteran as they walked past him into the office, met by a solemn, thin man with rounded glasses, looking slightly miserable in the humidity. "Names?" He asked, voice rougher than either Dean or Cas would have suspected by his appearance.

Dean answered first, stepping up to the desk with a confidence that bordered on pride. "Dean Winchester."

The man simply stamped a seal next to his name in the book, handing Dean a small box. "Cabin six. Bunk twelve, bottom. Basic items are in there, along with your schedule." His voice was monotone, barley acknowledging Dean's thanks as he turned to Cas, waiting.

Castiel stepped forward as well, feeling more confident by Dean's show. "Castiel W-" At the slip up of his last name, his ears reddened, and he quickly corrected himself within a second, the mistake barley noticeable. "Novak."

The man at the desk simply nodded, stamping near his name as well. "Cabin six. Bunk twelve, top."

Castiel thanked him, hoping no one, especially Dean, noticed his slip up. He didn't know why he almost said it, almost called himself by Dean's last name. It could possibly be he was focused on Dean's words, and his mind picked up on the name, letting it slip, as when one was writing and listening to someone at the same time, their pen writes the word recently heard, without a second thought. But Castiel knew it wasn't just a trick of his mind. No, deep down, he knew he had a secret, never spoken or acknowledged desire to be Dean's spouse, to live in happiness with him. Pushing away the thoughts that only served to worry him more, worry him at their current circumstances, Castiel followed Dean to walk to their cabin.

"So, you're on top this time." Dean smirked, which promptly got him a playful slap to the back of his head.

"Don't try anything, Winchester." Castiel joked, smirking back at him.

"Oh I plan to." Dean called over his shoulder as they entered the cabin, finding their bunks easily. The cabin was simple; old clapboard wood probably thrown up in a month, six bunk beds on each side, lining the walls of the small single room. Castiel looked around when he reached his bunk, frowning when his searching gaze was met by Gabriel and Dylan in the nearest bunk to them.

"Good to see you guys again." Gabriel greeted, coming over with a smile, an unnerving, mischievous glint to his honey brown eyes.

"You too." Castiel said, determined to regain his previous confidence and friendliness, wanting to recreate who he was the night of the dance. "All settled?" He questioned, smiling.

"Yeah, looks like we'll be in the same platoon after all." The shorted man said happily. "This is just like summer camp, the cabins, the friendships, maybe even the pranks..." He waggled his eyebrows with another smirk.

Dean chuckled, opening his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the cabin door banging open loudly.

"Ladies! Good to see you." The watching man they had seen at the office earlier shouted, a bit excessive in his projection to the small group.

All the men stood a bit more stiffly at his authoritative tone, turning his direction, their gazes trained on him in respect. That was, of course, all except for Gabriel.

"You too, ma'am." The short man piped up, just as loud, mocking respect.

The apparent drill sergeant did a double take before making his way towards them to tower over Gabriel. "Would you like to share that with the rest of the class, princess?" The man nearly yelled in his face.

Gabriel shrugged, unfazed by the close proximity or the loud tone. "Just greeting you. Thought it would be nice, you seem a little grumpy today."

The instructor's eyes widened impossibly more before grabbing Gabriel's shoulder, shoving him to the ground. "Two-hundred push ups, you will not stop until they are done!" He yelled, shoving his foot down on Gabriel's back as he began the first one before walking to the front of the cabin once more. "Does anyone else in this _miserable_ bunch have anything else to say?" He demanded, piercing gaze on every single one of the now more respectful men. Seeing no response, he placed his hands behind his back. "Good. You are all part of the same platoon, in case you were too _stupid_ to notice. You will all adhere strictly and promptly to your given schedules, do everything you're told, and no horsing around!" With the last statement, he looked blatantly to Gabriel, who was still smirking while doing the exercise effortlessly. "If you do all this, and give the proper respect, you'll do just fine." The veteran informed, turning on his heels. "Dismissed. Be at the mess hall in fifteen minutes or don't eat."

The room seemed to breath a sigh of relief in unison, Gabriel getting up from the floor, only fifty push ups into his punishment.

Almost instantly the door burst open once more, startling them all. "Did I say you could stop, maggot?"

Gabriel smirked, unable to contain himself. "You didn't tell me to keep going."

The sergeant's face twisted in anger at the disrespect. "Stay away from the mess hall tonight, and finish your push ups! I suggest you avoid me the duration of your training." He warned, watching Gabriel for a few more seconds before leaving.

Castiel gave Dean a disbelieving look at the other man's antics, shaking his head as he unpacked the small box, setting the shirts, heavy camouflage pants, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste into the chest at the edge of his bed, smiling when Dean did the same, giving his hand a small squeeze under the cover of the box lid.

The dinner was loud and messy, filled with obnoxious young men jeering and chatting loudly over their food, pushing and shoving each other playfully, obviously happy to be free of the day's work. Castiel and Dean ate quietly, not really talking to Dylan, seeing as Gabriel wasn't there. It was over within an hour, and they were ordered back to their cabins to do what they pleased for another half hour before the scheduled and orderly lights out.

"A bedtime? This really is like summer camp." Gabriel commented with a snicker when they all got back, pulling a candy bar from his satchel to replace his missed meal.

Dean shook his head. "I swear you're going to have us all work ten times harder."

Gabriel shrugged, shoving half the bar into his mouth as he turned to chat with Dylan.

Dean and Castiel talked for a bit, discussing what they thought tomorrow would bring, the conversation cut short by the loud alarm that signaled sleep. The whole cabin seemed to move in unison, all the guys moving to tug the sheets out of the thin mattresses.

"Goodnight, Dean." Castiel said with a small smile, meeting Dean's eyes as he hopped up on his bunk, feet hanging over the edge.

"Night, Cas." Dean returned the smile, breath catching slightly at the other's intense gaze, love washing over him as he laid on his own bunk, falling into a tired, travel induced sleep.

* * *

The next day was not how either of them imagined it, rising early to run, stopping only to shower and eat before they were back out in the sun, which seemed to only increase in heat and intensity as the grueling drills and courses progressed. The end of the day was the same, the loud, obnoxious eating, Castiel and Dean sitting quietly to eat, not getting much involved in the noise, Dean only getting rambunctious one or twice. Day after day it went on like this, and for six straight weeks, the same schedule and drills. Dean and Castiel were pushed, belittled, and trained to become soldiers, the time they had barley being enough before they were readying to ship off.

* * *

Falling into his top bunk on the last night in camp, muscles protesting for the thousandth time that day at the movement, Castiel sighed, mind racing with the events of tomorrow. They were going to some place in Japan called Iwo Jima, on something they were told very little about, '_operation detachment_', they called it. Even after the training, the confidence Castiel had gained seemed miniscule next to the fear and uncertainty he still held, fear for himself, fear for Dean. Sighing, he reached to his satchel he kept at the edge of the bed, and pulled out the old, faded picture of his mother, letting her memory quell his nervousness.

"Castiel." She would say, tucking him into bed. "If you ever feel scared about something, just remember that someone loves you, and if you love someone deeply enough, they will give you the strength to go on. You will always have my love, and you will always have strength because of it. And one day, when you find that special person to love, they will give you strength too." She would look down at him, brushing the messy black hair from his forehead with a soft kiss right above his brow. "I love you, my little angel."

Castiel broke from the memory, wiping his eyes from the tears that had gathered, only to have his gaze filled by Dean standing in the dark next to his bed.

"Cas..." Dean said softly, taking his hand when he saw the tears.

Castiel instantly reacted, flinching at the contact and looking around, fearing they may be caught.

Dean swiped a thumb over the back of his hand reassuringly. "Already checked. They're all asleep." He whispered gently, smiling through the dim light coming from the small window at the front of the cabin as he moved closer to the edge of his bed.

Castiel sighed in relief, scooting to the edge to bury his face in the crook of Dean's neck, still wary in the stolen embrace, which they had not had in the six weeks they had occupied the camp. "I'm worried I'll lose you... You're the one thing to keep me strong." He explained in reference to his tears, hushed in the close contact.

Dean sighed softly, gently, and wrapped his arms around Castiel's upper body. "I don't plan on leaving." He said, light in his tone, yet the words themselves carried strong conviction.

Castiel felt the reassurance, Dean's tone instantly making him feel stronger, more stable. "Neither do I." He whispered softly, moving out of the embrace slightly to look in the emerald eyes before him, reaching his hand up to stroke his clean shaven jaw.

Dean leaned into the touch, heart pounding lightly in the stolen moment, eyes shifting around to check once more they weren't being watched before he captured Castiel's lips in a soft, gentle kiss, his upper lip fitting perfectly between the other's. The relief of contact after so much time was immense, and Dean melted into the heat of the contact for but a moment before pulling back, knowing they did not have much time before someone was likely to stir awake. "Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean." Castiel murmured, eyes half lidded in bliss and relief as he pulled Dean close, inhaling the comforting scent of cheap soap and minty toothpaste, of dirt and light cotton. He felt loved, and never wanted to let go, never wanted to give Dean the chance of getting in harm's way. However, their current circumstance deemed this wish impossible, and he broke the close hug. "I love you, Dean." He said softly, voice catching slightly.

Dean smiled, running his thumb over Castiel's lower lip. "I love you too, Cas." When a slight rustle of sheets was heard, he disappeared, the contact fleeting.

When Dean went back to his bunk, Castiel sighed softly, replacing the picture of his mother in his satchel. Pulling the sheets to his chin, he scooted the the edge of the bed, reaching his hand over the side after checking everyone remained asleep. It took a moment, but Dean grasped his hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb until it fell with his slumber. Castiel, too, fell asleep, hand releasing Dean's as his blue eyes closed softly, head against the pillow, his mother's words echoing in his head. "I love you, my little angel."


	7. Grief

The next morning was a rush of activity. Belongings were packed, breakfast was scarfed down, uniforms were given, duffel bags were hastily stuffed full of supplies. Through it all, Castiel stayed close to Dean, not wanting to lose him in the rush to get everything done. Soon, they were loaded onto trucks, the ride fifteen minutes of unbearable jeering and immaturity from Dylan and the other guys, Gabriel simply smirking at all of them while he ate a chocolate bar he produced from some pocket or another.

"Alright ladies, get your asses to that plane, we don't have all day!" Their sergeant instructed, folding his arms at the back exit of the truck. All the men bustled out at the order, jogging towards the large DC3 with ease. Dean, however, simply stiffened next to Castiel, who was already shifting out of the truck.

Turning his head around, the blue eyed man looked to find Dean, pale and stiff, hands balled into white knuckled fists at his sides. "Dean?"

Dean's eyes snapped up from the ground, meeting Castiel's, looking panicked and embarrassed. "Just uh- Give me a second, Cas."

The sergeant noticed this and pulled Castiel from the truck by his arm, doing the same to Dean. "I said move your asses, soldiers, not have small talk!"

Castiel gave a single, obeying nod, and shifted to begin jogging towards the plane with the rest of their squad. However, he stopped himself when Dean simply stood in place on the concrete, face obviously reddened, jaw set, teeth gritted.

Seeing this, the sergeant stood in front of Dean, who simply stared ahead. "Winchester! What is the matter with you?" He nearly yelled in his face at the disobedience.

Dean didn't shift his gaze, not wanting to make the situation any worse by disrespect. "I don't like flying, sir." He answered evenly, obviously humiliated, especially in front of Cas.

Castiel wanted to interject, but stayed silent, hoping the sergeant would have at least a bit of mercy for his best friend, the man he loved.

However, Castiel's wishes were again not filled, as the sergeant sneered in Dean's face. "Don't like it? Well I'm sorry to say, princess, but in the army we don't get to have feelings! We do one thing: protect and defend these United States, and if you're not willing to do that, because of some _flying_ issue, then you must be some kind of queer!"

Dean flinched at the words, forcing himself to walk towards the plane, shoulders angry yet defeated at the term, which he now found offensive.

Seeing Dean like this, defeated and humiliated, Castiel got angry himself, clapping his hand on the turned shoulder of the sergeant, who whipped around, eyes questioning at the move.

"You didn't need to do that, you could have just forced him on the plane without another word. This isn't boot camp anymore, so stop with the insults." Castiel said through half gritted teeth, meeting the slightly taller man's eyes in a show of defense.

"Well, excuse me for running my squad the way I see fit!" The sergeant yelling in his face, not taking the disrespect. "Now get your ass in that plane before I send you to work trench duty when we get there!"

Castiel narrowed his eyes to a glare, but caught up to Dean, who was now jogging grudgingly to the plane, a surprised expression gracing his features. "Cas, you didn't have to do that, he probably hates you now." Castiel shrugged as they got on the plane, trying his best to give Dean comfort as they sat on the benched seats, avoiding the sergeant's gaze.

"I did need to do that, Dean, I won't let him mock you, I won't let him drag you under. That's the worst thing to happen with our decision." With the words, he flicked his sapphire eyes down to his boots, scuffing a bit of dirt off of them.

Dean resisted the urge to pull Castiel close, and simply gave him a grateful smile, the expression suddenly wiped off his face as the plane jolted down the runway, taking off within the minute.

"Dean, are you okay?" Castiel looked to the man beside him, who's green eyes were wide with fear, jaw set in place, knuckles clenching at the seat white at the shift in the plane.

Dean simply nodded, offering a reassuring smile, trying to look at ease. "I'll be fine, just need a minute."

Castiel looked unconvinced, and almost pulled Dean into a comforting embrace, until he realized where they were, and who was around them. Prying, judging eyes were watching them, always watching, ready to pounce and ridicule, at the slightest inclination of love or affection, and frankly, Cas would not have any part of it. "I'm here, Dean." He reassured quietly, so only he could hear the comforting words.

Dean nodded once more, slight relief finding it's way into his nervous eyes. Throughout the hours in the plane, Castiel kept Dean distracted, creating conversation, murmuring reassuring words when no one was listening, showing Dean he was there, and he didn't pass judgment on his fear. Suddenly, when they announced they were nearing the air strip, Castiel remembered his mother's words from his past.

"Dean?" He hesitated for a moment, but was then spurred on by the wondering, loving gaze that fell upon him from Dean, silently urging him to go on. At this, Castiel continued, bolder than before to share his recollection. "When my mother was still alive, she used to tell me that if you ever feel scared about something, just remember someone loves you, and if you love someone deeply enough, they will give you the strength to go on..." Castiel paused for a moment with the memory, considering his next words carefully. "Even though I may be nervous about what we'll find down there, even though you may be nervous about what's up here, just remember, you give me strength... And I hope I give you strength in return."

Dean looked to Castiel, eyebrows coming together slightly with gratitude. "Cas, that was beautiful." Dean Winchester was not the sort of man to talk feelings, or even thoughts, but in this instance, he felt Castiel had formed his words perfectly, short and sweet, almost like the books of poetry he read Sam to bed with, when they had no other available story options. Shaking off the memory, Dean once again resisted the urge to wrap his hand around Castiel's, and instead settled for a smile, lowering the volume of his words as to not alert those around them of their topic. "You are my strength, Cas. You are my reason to keep fighting."

Castiel's chest welled with adoration for Dean at that, for he knew the other man was no open book. Unable to resist contact any longer, he gave Dean a hearty slap on the shoulder, letting his hand linger for a millisecond too long, just to show Dean his intention, but hide it from everyone else. "You'll do great." He reassured at a normal volume, as to justify the touch to the others.

"Thanks, Cas." A smile tugged at his lips, but once again it was erased when the plane touched the ground, bumping and jostling them all, causing Dean to stiff up once again. In a mind set of nervous fear, the Winchester reached for Castiel's hand, gripping it tightly for a few seconds before remembering himself and ripping it away, eyes flicking around in fear someone had seen. Luckily, all the other guys were engrossed in uncaring conversation, paying no attention to the two quiet men in the corner of the metal shell. When the plane came to a stand still, Dean breathed out a small sigh of relief, color beginning to creep back in his face.

"That was unexpected." Castiel teased, standing with all the other men, who were gathering their things.

Dean reddened slightly, rolling his eyes as he shoved Castiel's duffel into him. "Just get your stuff, mister."

"Well if it's going to be like that." He lightly punched Dean in the arm, exiting the plane while he smiled to himself at the other's shaky exit, wavering a bit on his bow legs.

They arrived at the small camp in the matter of fifteen minutes, slightly out of breath from jogging the whole way. Castiel looked around at the men who were huddled under the tarps, cigarettes lit, talking amongst themselves as they sized up the newcomers. A field hospital was set up to the side, already housing a couple of injured soldiers, which only serves to alight Castiel's nerves.

"Don't get comfortable, we move in one hour. Briefing will be in fifteen minutes, you will get your weapons then!" The Sargent shouted over the pounding rain, wiping it from his eyes roughly while he turned to talk with another man.

"Guess we won't have much time then." Dean looked to Castiel with a smile, who returned the expression halfheartedly, huddling near the others under the tarp. "So, operation detachment, huh?"

Castiel nodded to Dean's question, eyes trained on their leader for a moment before he turned to face him. "Yes. They said we would have to take this island."

Dean's eyebrows raised at this, eyes flicking around. "Isn't that a lot to do?"

Castiel shrugged. "I suppose they know what they're doing."

"Yeah, I guess they do." Dean agreed, heading over to where the others had gathered to wait for orders. Castiel followed closely, fingers brushing against Dean's arm slyly.

"Getting a little close and personal there, are we?" Dean said to him quietly, leaning over with a smirk. Castiel simply rolled his eyes, beginning to retort when the Sargent started talking.

"We need to take a camp that's about 5 miles to the North. Stay with your platoons, stay in line, and keep quiet. Don't shoot unless you are given the order, and don't mess it up out there. Move out!"

"Yes sir!" All the men said in unison, gathering together in prepared formation, grabbing weapons and gear to head into the dense jungle.

Castiel's movements were nearly mechanical as he grabbed his rifle and pack, putting on his helmet to jog with the rest of the group next to Dean, always next to Dean.

"Ready to kick some ass?" Gabriel called rather loudly to them from the front of the group, smirking as always.

Castiel just rolled his eyes, looking rather pleased when Gabriel got told to shut up by the Sargent, who directed the comment not only to Gabriel but the whole platoon: they were getting close. The jungle fell silent in mere seconds, the only sounds surrounding them being the heavy patter of rain mixed with slight voices in the distance, definitely not American. Their Sargent waved his arm in a tight circle, ordering them to gather close.

"Alright men, this is your first battle, so let's not get too bloody. Follow orders, move forward, keep your heads down, and do not retreat." His voice was low and hoarse as he cocked his gun, motioning to a third of the platoon. "You circle around and flank them, don't get caught or be seen. When I give the signal, start firing, and we'll advance from the front and take the first building."

"Yes sir." The six, more experienced men said in unison, heading off with one of the two medics behind them.

Castiel looked to Dean once to meet his eyes softly, nodding in reassurance as they began to creep forward in a crouch. Their troop had just begun to get closer, almost to a good cover point, when a shot cracked through the jungle, loud and echoing through the almost lulling sound of the heavy rain. The soldier directly in front of Dean fell to his knees, hand flying to his neck, blood bubbling through his fingers a second before he collapsed face first in the mud, shot in the throat, dead before the battle began.

"Snipers! Up in the trees!" One man called, pulling Dean from the shock of having his face spotted with the other man's blood, just in time to take cover in a fox hole next to Gabriel. The normally sarcastic man had grown somber and serious, focused and concentrated, in a matter of seconds, already aiming his gun out as shots began to ring around them.

Dean did the same, aiming down the sights of his rifle to pick off an enemy with ease. He was already searching for another when a bullet grazed past his ear, causing him to jump as the projectile exploded into the muddy earth behind him, sending the wet, sandy particles flying to patter against his helmet with the heavy rain. When the barage of bullets let up slightly with the enemies reloading, the Sargent's radio crackled.

"Sir, we're pinned down back here." The voice of another soldier broke through, the whizzing of bullets in the background. "We tried to flank them, but it was an ambush..." Static buzzed through the radio before his next words. "The medic's dead- only two of us left." He gasped out before the connection ceased, a shout of pain coming from the other end for but a moment.

"Damn it!" The Sargent cursed, keeping his head down while he addressed them all. "Do not fall back! Keep moving and push em back, boys!"

They all nodded, some shooting back, some reloading their guns in preparation. More bullets began to fly, and Dean glanced around just in time to see their remaining medic get shot down, a bullet misting blood from his forehead.

"Second medic's down!" Dean shouted to the Sargent, who simply shook his head harshly.

"I told you to move, soldier, not give me updates!" He shouted over the shots and rain, moving forward himself. Dean automatically began moving at the demand, the way he was raised ingrained into his mind: follow orders, don't ask questions, and respect your superior officer. Though, even with the orders, he still stole a glance over to Castiel, ensuring his safety and cover before he pulled himself from the fox hole to rush forward.

Castiel looked around for Dean, who he found nodding to the order, meeting his eyes softly for a moment before shifting into a crouch to move. Satisfied and ready to cover their advancement, the blue eyed man tore his gaze away and cocked his gun, looking down the sights to find an enemy, just in time to see a Japanese man point his gun to the right of him. Squeezing at the dripping trigger, Castiel attempted to fire, but found his gun jamming, and was unable to kill, unable to prevent him from shooting. At this realization, he took his now panicked sapphire eyes from the man in his sights and followed the invisible aim line, just in time to see it pointed at a running Dean, gun swaying in his arms, strong legs lifting him at an incline out of the fox hole.

"Dean!" Castiel shouted, his loud, desperate voice being drowned out by the gun shot he somehow knew was from the enemy. With his shout, he was already running from his cover, already rushing to get Dean to safety, rifle forgotten in his panic. His efforts, however, were in vain when he watched, almost in slow motion, as Dean got hit in mid stride. The bullet flew into his chest, knocking the whole left side of his body off balance, a faint crimson splatter misting through the air as he was knocked into the mud below, pain creasing his features.

Castiel stopped short, shock overtaking him for a moment before he sprung back into action. "Dean! No!" He shouted above the bullets, explosions, and rain, all the noise being drowned out by the pounding of his heart, breaths coming out in choked sobs as he collapsed next to his gasping other, knees splashing the mud beneath him. Instantly, his hands fluttered to the Winchester's injury, unsuccessfully compressing the blood that flowed continuously from his heaving chest cavity.

"Cas..." Dean said weakly through the gasps, the pain in his chest searing through his whole body as he met the other's eyes. The pain he felt was very much physical, but, he realized, was also emotional pain. He realized that not only was he going to die on this cold, rainy battlefield in a foreign country, not only was he going to leave his life behind, not only was he going to fail his father by not completing his service to his country... He would also be breaking his promise to Castiel. Dean realized this was what hurt more than any of the other pains, this was the most prominent, the most searing. He had promised Castiel they would be safe, had promised him he would protect him, had promised him they would have a life together. And now, now that would all be ruined by a cold, hard piece of metal stuck in his slowing heart, releasing the life from him with each struggled breath.

Castiel was in too much shock to speak as his hand came away coated in deep, viscous crimson that was still seeping continuously from Dean's heaving chest. "We're gonna bring you back, you're going to be fine!" He finally managed, only shouting due to the noise. With determination, Castiel began to work his arm around Dean's neck and under his legs, lifting him slightly before he felt a hand grip at his forearm tightly. Looking down, he met Dean's eyes, stomach instantly sinking at the look in them, the slight shake of Dean's head.

"No, Cas..." Dean refused, weak words barley audible over the noise. "You need to get out of here... You're not behind cover." As he met Castiel's eyes, his instantly filled with tears, not wanting to admit his broken promise, but also knowing it was the only way the other would take cover. "I'm dying." Although they were Dean's own words, they still felt like knives in his chest, even more painful than the bullet, for he knew he had to leave Castiel. He would have to leave the man he loved, the one who laid in a grassy field at sunset to tell stories, smile brighter than the sun itself. He would have to leave his embrace, and would never feel the strong, gentle arms around his torso again after a long day at work. He would have to leave his whole life behind, leave the bright blue eyes, the soft smile, his sweet kiss... He would have to leave Castiel, the one who loved him, even with all his flaws, and that was what hurt the most.

At Dean's first words, Castiel simply shook his head, refusing to leave him wounded on the battlefield. However, at Dean's sudden tears, somehow he knew, the confession of death Dean choked out next only a confirmation of his worst fears. "Dean, I'm not leaving you." He insisted, gasping in deep, shuddering breaths, vision blurry before the tears fell, mixing with the blood, rain, and mud that had pooled beneath Dean.

"Get to cover... Please." Dean struggled out, wishing Castiel would leave him, wishing Cas didn't have to watch him die, watch him break his promise, but most of all, wishing he wouldn't have to see Castiel so broken over this.

Castiel shook his head. "I'm not leaving you, Dean." With determination to save him and respect for his request to get to safety, Castiel took Dean from under his arms and dragged him off through the mud to a small, slightly covered part of the jungle and set him up against a tall palm, guts twisting at his pained moan.

"Cas..." Dean said weakly, motioning him closer, instantly earning a response as Castiel leaned in close to listen, hands in nervous flight to his wound. When Dean saw him close and worried, he placed his hands into Castiel's, meeting his blue eyes with a soft, regretful expression. "I'm sorry I failed you, I'm sorry I'm going to leave you... I'm sorry we can't have our apple pie life." He chuckled lightly, but it was only filled with grief and remorse as his vision began to close in black at the very edges.

Tears were blinding Castiel now, falling in hot streaks down his cool, rain covered face at Dean's words, to which he let out a choked sob, shaking his head vigorously. "Dean you couldn't possibly think- I don't think you're breaking your promise." He clarified through his shuddering breaths, watching Dean fade by the second, a small smile gracing his blood and dirt caked features.

The Winchester's smile, however, faded in an instant, giving way to a wondering and saddened expression, one almost of regret filled awe. "I'm going to die." The soft words Dean spoke to himself sunk in, and he let his green eyes find Castiel's, tears welling up to rest on the edge of his long lower lashes. "I don't want to leave you."

It was obvious how much the blood and oxygen loss was effecting Dean, and was obvious at how much pain he was in, physically as well as emotionally. "I don't want you to leave either, Dean." Castiel breathed out in shudders, hand coming up to gently stroke the side of his cheeks in a gesture of comfort. He truly didn't want Dean to leave, for Dean was the only one to ever love him in this way, accept him, make him happy, to give him a desire for life. Dean was the only one to help him through all his fears, regrets, pains, griefs, he was the only one to hold him close when the memories of his past battered him down. And now, just like that, he was going. One piece of cold metal to his heart stopped everything, all their dreams and hopes, all their plans, all their lives. It wasn't fair, Dean couldn't die, why did he have to die... Castiel's painful thoughts were suddenly cut off by Dean's hand closing over his once more, stilling their shaking.

"Hey- shh don't- cry..." Dean gasped out hoarsely, softly, reaching his free hand up with difficulty to wipe at Castiel's still falling tears. "I don't have much time left..."

Castiel nodded, lips pressed together, quivering at the effort to stop his tears. Dean had been strong for him this whole time, and now, in his time of dying, he had to be strong for him. So, Castiel set his jaw, eyebrows creasing with the pain and effort, and leaned gently into Dean's touch.

"You go on- and be- happy- okay?" Dean said quietly, breaths shorter, vision tunneling as he met Castiel's bright blue eyes one last time.

Castiel nodded, the tears flowing once more, sobs wracking his controlled shoulders. "Dean... I love you."

Dean's tears fell, too, as he leaned into Castiel's touch, his face the only thing not blacked out in his dying vision. He tried to find his voice, but simply couldn't, he couldn't speak, was too close to death. He would have panicked, but was far too weak. Instead, although he regretted it, nodded with a sorrowful smile, hand falling from the other's face as his limb grew too heavy to hold. With a last bit of strength before he fell, Dean curled his finger under Castiel's chin, beckoning him forward.

Castiel nodded back, understanding why he couldn't respond, and leaned forward at the desperate touch, pressing his lips to Dean's. The same electricity flowed between them, except this time it was filled with sadness, with regret, with longing. Castiel breathed in through his nose and let out a choked sob, deepening the kiss only slightly, slipping his hand into Dean's for but a second before he felt what he dreaded... Beneath his own, Dean's lips slackened with his hand, which fell gently to the earth below.

Sapphire eyes shot open, lips pulling away quickly as Castiel moved his hands up to desperately clench at Dean's shoulders, shaking him lightly, cupping at his face, eyes fluttering to the wound, shock and grief debilitating his system. "Dean? Dean?" He cried out, tears mixing with the now pelting rain, blurring the sight of Dean's lifeless head lolling against the tree, breathing cut off, eyes falling shut ever so gently with death.

Castiel kneeled in shock for a moment, unable to absorb all that had happened before he cried out, a loud, shouted sob ripping from his body as reality sunk in. It didn't matter, though, how much he grasped of Dean's untimely death, because just at that moment another bullet flew through the air and into his shoulder. Crying out in added pain, Castiel began to fall, his descent cut off by a nearby grenade exploding, which sent a piece of tree bark flying into his temple, knocking him out cold.

Dean's final moments were not as he expected. They were not rushed, not short, but simply slow and meandering, as a nice Sunday drive would be. Relief swept through him at Castiel's lips, his vision going completely black, the life draining from him in seconds, hand slipping from the other's in weakness. As he let his head fall back onto the tree, it wasn't a flash of Castiel's smile that ran through his head, not a vision of their hopes for the future, not a memory of Castiel's eyes shining under the soft lighting at the dance... No, Dean's final thought was of his father's words. "They're two men, but they love each other. It's wrong Dean, very wrong. Do you understand?" Even with this troubling thought, Dean simply felt at peace with his decision, and finally knew his father was wrong, finally made peace with himself, right before he slipped into the nothing.


	8. Memories and Momentos

Castiel woke a day later in the field hospital, the hot, humid air confining and sticky, making breathing slightly difficult. Confused and disoriented, he tried to sit up, but was instantly stopped by a sharp pain ripping through his bandaged shoulder and head, causing his vision to spot black for a moment. Sucking in a sharp breath to prepare for the pain, he took the pillow that was beneath his head and leaned it against the headboard, using his good arm to heave himself up into a sitting position.

"Novak?"

Castiel looked up from his settling to see a brunette nurse, his vision becoming more clear and defined in the passing seconds. "Yes. Castiel Novak." He coughed, throat and mouth dry with his words.

"Let me get you some water." She offered, seeming rather busy as she crossed the room, back turned for a moment before she walked back with quick strides, handing his shaky hand a small plastic cup filled with water.

Castiel nodded thanks, sipping the water slowly as he looked around, still confused, still out of it. There was a mosquito net between him and his fellow patients, which were laying in blood spotted or stained white sheets. Returning his gaze to the nurse, Castiel knew he was injured, that was obvious with the pounding of his head, the sharp pain in his shoulder... The only thing he was confused about as to how it happened, and what had happened; whatever it was, it must've been bad. He felt dried tear streaks tight on his face, which only served to confuse him further on what had happened; as the blow to the head continued to disorient him in waking.

The petite nurse noticed this disorientation in his eyes and began to check his bandages, making small conversation. "You took quite a hit out there."

At her words, Castiel furrowed his brows. "Out there?"

She let out a small sigh, gently removing an IV from his arm. "I told them not to give you so much morphine, it's only your shoulder and a slight concussion." She shook her head, meeting his eyes to answer the confusion. "You know, out there in the battle. You got lucky, only four of you survived."

At her words, Castiel suddenly gasped to himself, near a sob, hand flying to his mouth in disbelief at the memories that flooded his mind. It all came back in a moment when he squeezed his eyes shut: Dean running forward, the bullet collapsing him into the ground. Dean crying out in pain, grief filling his emerald eyes. Dean's lips slackening beneath his own, breathing out once before the life drained from him. He remembered it all, up until his own sobbed shout, up until a hot pain in his shoulder, up until a loud explosion... Up until the blackness.

"Mr. Novak?" The nurse asked, looking into his face worriedly, instantly breaking him from the string of memories that were obviously plaguing him.

Castiel's eyes shot open, just becoming aware of the fresh tears that had cascaded down his face. "Dean Winchester. Did he... Is he alive?" He asked, voice breaking, a small hope burning inside of him that Dean would simply have been passed out from blood loss.

The nurses brows furrowed, thinking before she got up to get a clipboard from the adjacent counter. "Winchester?" She asked, eyes already flicking down the list of the deceased.

"Yes." Castiel answered, nodding slightly while he wiped at his damp eyes, watching her face carefully. However, once again, his hopes were crushed instantly when he caught the unfurrowing of her brow, going from confusion to sadness. Gently meeting his eyes, sympathy shined in her deep brown eyes, her head shaking silently: Dean was gone.

Instantly, Castiel turned away, tears already streaming down his face in silence. He could feel the nurse watching him, and lifted his eyes once to question her, for the air was thick with a hesitation that was emanating from her.

At his questioning look to her lingering presence, she cleared her throat, motioning slightly to the entrance of the tent. "The sergeant wants to speak with you..."

Castiel nodded while he wiped at his face, feeling embarrassment cover his grief and sorrow for a moment as the nurse motioned the veteran in.

The sergeant came to his bedside, keeping a slight distance as he trained his steely eyes on the adjacent wall, fist clenched tight on papers he held. Castiel stared up, the beginnings of anger in his gut at the sergeant. This was the man who ordered Dean to move, the one who knew it was dangerous, impossible even, but still insisted on moving forward. This was the man that inadvertently killed Dean. Letting out a shaky breath with the crushing thought of Dean's death overwhelming his existing anger, Castiel glanced at the papers in the sergeant's hand. "Yes sir?" It made his gut twist when he had to be respectful to this demanding man, but he remained calm and collected, face emotionless in front of him.

"Turns out..." The sergeant started, leafing through the papers. "I wasn't too far off when I called Winchester a queer. Turns out that my suspicions about you two on the day you entered boot camp were true. Turns out you are unfit to serve in the Army, seeing as you're mentally ill." He narrowed his eyes angrily.

Castiel's eyes stung at the words, for they alone brought up fresh memories of Dean, coming with them anger at the sergeant for the queer comment. "How did you find out?"

The veteran shook his head, not willing to disclose much information. "Someone saw you kiss on the field and was quick to inform me." He scoffed and looked to him in disgust, but was quick to regain his serious, 'unbiased' composure. "Castiel Novak, you are hereby dishonorably discharged from the US army on the grounds of homosexual, unlawful acts within the military with one Dean Winchester. You will be allowed three days in this tent to recover before you are sent back to the states." The sergeant finished stiffly, ignoring Castiel's pained face.

Castiel no longer held his emotions at bay, and instead let them go, let the tears well silently in his eyes. "What will happen to Dean...?" It was truly the only thing on his mind, he could care less what the Army did with him.

"The body will be sent to the closest relative, which we show to be his father. After that, we have no control of the proceedings. He will not get a military funeral, as he is also being dishonorably discharged."

Castiel let out a shaky breath, not really grasping the entirety of Dean's death; he felt as if he was living in a haze, a cloud, a bad dream that could not be remedied or woken up from. He was handed the thin discharge papers, which he quickly signed and shoved back. It was bad enough he would have to go home and face everyone who would know he was homosexual... But it was worse that Dean would not even get the proper military funeral he deserved, simply because he loved another man. It didn't matter how honorable he had been in his service, how noble he had been on the field; all that mattered was who he chose to love, and that overruled everything else as invalid.

"Three days." The sergeant said coldly, interrupting Castiel's thoughts.

Nodding, Castiel turned away, dealing with the words and Dean's death in his own way by ignoring everyone. He laid on his good side, tears slipping down his face in silence, wetting the pillow beneath him. He just wanted to be left alone with this pain. However, once again, his wants were not filled.

When Castiel heard someone stand at his bedside and touch his good shoulder lightly, a sob wracked his body: it reminded him of Dean's strong and comforting touch. However, knowing ignoring this person would be futile, he turned, not bothering to wipe his tears, and had his gaze filled with a sympathetic Gabriel, the sergeant gone. "Hey Cassie..." He said with a sad smile, no smirk on his face this time, only a bandage covering his jaw.

Castiel nodded hello, ignoring the nickname with a curiosity as to why Gabriel was here, the whole army must have heard about his discharge by now, especially the reason why.

Gabriel stood for a moment, clearing his throat. "I heard about Dean..."

Spent of his emotions, Castiel simply nodded with a clenched jaw, defense automatically overcoming him. "What about him? The queer part or the dishonorable discharge part?"

Gabriel shook his head, already seeing how deeply Castiel had been wounded by teasing and ridicule. "Yeah. I heard about it all... I also know how much you must be hurting."

Castiel, for merely a second, let his eyes soften at Gabriel's words. But then he realized how suspicious this all seemed; a straight man simply didn't place his sympathies and friendship with a homosexual man, it had never happened, and would never happen. "You know, I could handle you coming to tell me to get well, maybe even coming to say goodbye to me. But for you to come here, and mock Dean's death, mock my grief..." Castiel pushed away the emotion in his voice. "You've got a lot of nerve."

Gabriel shook his head quickly, hoping to dispel any preconceived notions. "No, Castiel..." He didn't know what he could say in counter, so he simply held out the object in hand, the silver dangling from his fingers in front of Castiel's balled fists.

Castiel's disappointed, angered face was soon transformed into confusion as he took the dog tags from Gabriel's fingers. He was at a loss as to why Gabriel would give him dog tags, for Castiel still possessed his, and he didn't see any reason why Gabriel would give his up. However, all his questions were dispelled when he shifted his blue eyes to look at the tags closer, gaze filled by soft etching into the thin metal.

_Winchester, Dean A  
_

_ 67319794 T43 O_

It was all there, from the blocky name to the serial number, vaccine record, and blood type. At this, Castiel stared for a while, thumb running over the soft grooves of his name before the tears at the back of his eyes became too much to bear. With all the strength gone from his weary body, Castiel simply let the tears fall, deep shaky breaths interrupting the silence of the tent. He looked up to where Gabriel stood, blue eyes still watery. "I thought they sent these to Washington if there wasn't family listed below the name..."

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah... Usually. But I got into the sergeant's tent and snagged 'em before he could send it out." Through the sympathy in his honey brown eyes, mischief glinted ever so slightly.

Castiel shifted his gaze from the tags to Gabriel's face and back again, cherishing the item that Dean had so recently wore. "Thank you." He managed out hoarsely, meeting Gabriel's eyes once more.

Gabriel smiled sadly. "I thought it would help you... You know, get through this."

Castiel nodded, clutching the dog tags as if they held his life, which, in a sense, they did, for they were a piece of Dean, who was his life.

Gabriel nodded once more and squeezed Castiel's good shoulder in an act of comfort, making a quiet and quick exit.

Castiel, with a slight amount of difficulty due to his one useful arm, gently placed Dean's dog tags around his neck, tucking the metal into his white t shirt. Letting his breath steady from the sobs that nearly overtook him, he gently pressed the cold metal to his breastbone, feeling the steady beat of his heart through the material until the tags warmed from his skin. Light, fitful sleep took him not long after, filled with memories of Dean. They were happy memories, but were painful to Castiel, even in the dream, for he knew he would never be able to produce more, he knew Dean was gone for good.


	9. Home

It was the third day, Castiel had been counting. Counting until he could leave this place, leave the fresh memory of Dean, leave the glares and scoffs at his seemingly constant tears, silence, or both. The nurses tried to make conversation, Gabriel came around once or twice, but no matter what anybody did, Castiel felt completely and utterly alone. Without Dean, without his support and comfort, he felt lost. He sighed as he got out of the bed that morning, as everything seemed an effort. The depression, the deep, sinking feeling he had seemed to acquire directly after the confirmation of Dean's death never left him, no matter what he was doing or who he was talking to. Pushing himself to stand, he got dressed with a bit of effort into a white t shirt and some army issued camouflage pants, sitting heavily on the bed to recover from the task: his concussion had caused fatigue.

"Hey." A gruff voice barked from the foot of his bed, to which Castiel looked up, gaze filled by Dylan carrying his satchel in his good arm, his other arm amputated at the elbow.

"Yes?" Castiel didn't much engage in conversation anymore, especially with Dylan.

"I have your stuff." He said, a rude edge to his tone as he carelessly threw the pack in Castiel's general direction, landing it to jostle roughly on the mattress beside his right hip.

Castiel opened his mouth to utter a thank you, for his possessions were all intact, but caught Dylan wiping his hand on his shirt, a look of disgust on his face. Eyes downcast, jaw set, Castiel stayed silent, knowing the reason for his obvious action.

"You know, fruit," the sneer could be heard in Dylan's voice at the nickname, "I always knew you would turn out queer, _that_ one was obvious. But Winchester? Never pegged him as a fairy, he always seemed so manly, so right in the head." He shrugged. "But, I guess that's what happens in life, there are always one or two rotten apples in the barrel. At least one of you is out of your misery, I know I would want to be if I was sick in the head."

Castiel cringed at Dylan's words concerning his own sexuality, planning to just ignore him and move on, get out of here, get _home_. However, when Dylan spoke of Dean, Castiel instantly got defensive, anger rising in his gut at every word as he moved his eyes to glare at Dylan throughout his speech. Deciding to leave it alone, knowing he shouldn't get so angry over an analogy about _apples_, Castiel stood, planning to brush past Dylan's larger frame to exit. However, as soon as the words came out of Dylan's mouth, as soon as he talked about Dean's death as if he was out of his "misery", Castiel stiffened and punched the taller man square in the jaw. "Don't you ever talk about Dean like that, you hear me you ass? He wasn't insane, we aren't insane, how _dare_ you think that you ignorant bastard!" After his angry, violent outburst, Castiel was fuming, until he broke down into a sob at the harsh emotions.

Dylan fell to the dusty floor at the punch, his recently amputated arm throwing him off balance. Looking up from the ground, he wiped a dribble of blood from his mouth and tried to get up, failing for a good minute due to the imbalance his arm created. Finally up on his feet, he found Castiel sitting on the bed, sobbing, the whole hospital staring at the scene, at his struggle to get up off the floor. "What are you all looking at, huh?" Dylan bellowed, anger flashing in his eyes while he looked around. Satisfied when the entire tent turned away, he simply turned to Castiel and spit on him. "Not mentally ill huh?" He mocked, referencing his sobbing breakdown. "Always knew you were a queer." He said with spite, turning to storm out.

Castiel reached up to wipe the projectile off his cheek, wiping away the tears as well, Dylan's words echoing in his head. "_Not mentally ill...? Knew you were a queer..._" He sat for a long moment, trying to collect himself, and continued trying as he was called to a jeep, driven to the airstrip, and boarded on the plane with other injured soldiers. Castiel kept his eyes down, clutching at his few possessions in the satchel desperately, blocking out the memories of Dean the plane brought. It seemed everything would bring memories of Dean now. Over the hours sitting in the same place, on the same wooden bench, Castiel grew numb with the memories overtaking him, and eventually stared ahead, nothing in his mind at all. It was as if he was incapacitated from all the emotional strain, not able to function, at least until he was shaken on his good shoulder to get off the large DC3.

Again, Castiel was boarded onto a jeep and driven to the station, before boarded onto the train, shuffled through the lines like livestock with all the other injured soldiers. He sat alone on the train, wanting to reach into his bag to find comfort in the items inside, but knew they would only break him down in front of everyone. Again. So he sat, staring out the window at the passing trees, which now were full and green, grass waving beneath their rooted trunks. Usually, Castiel would admire the scenery, find beauty in everyday life, enjoy the nature. But not today. Today, everything seemed gray, lifeless, and dull, as if he was looking through someone else's eyes, through the eyes of depression. It went on like this for the entirety of the seven hours he spent on the train, in a daze, not really registering anything. Once, someone tried to talk to him, but gave up the instant Castiel met their eyes, there was so much pain, so much loss in his sapphire orbs. So, they mumbled words of condolence, squeezed his good arm, and left him alone.

Soon, the train arrived back in his home town, where he stepped off to be met by a tearful Ellen and Jo, a somber Bobby, whom he had sent a short telegram to his first night in the field hospital. Castiel was confused for a moment as to why they were here, news spread fast in this town, he was well known, and everybody already knew why he was home so soon, everybody knew he was homosexual. But, curiously, they were all still here, the most surprising being Bobby. Instantly Ellen pulled Castiel into a deep hug, apology rolling off her in waves. As if her motherly action broke him through the haze he was in, Castiel instantly hugged her back, nearly clung to her for support while he held back the tears stinging at his eyes.

Pulling back after a long while, Ellen held him at arms length and looked into his eyes sympathetically. "I'm so sorry..." She murmured, feeling as if it was the only thing she could say in this situation.

Castiel nodded silently, dropping the arm that wasn't in a sling from the hug. "Don't you all know?" His words weren't accusatory, rude, or spiteful, it was simply a question.

They all nodded, Bobby being the one to speak up. "It doesn't change a thing."

At this, Castiel let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, relief flooding through him: he had been ridiculed enough in his life, especially in the past three days, and to know his closest friends didn't outcast him for being who he was, was a relief beyond measure. "Thank you." He said quietly, looking to all of them.

A silence surrounded them all, Castiel looking at his feet, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot. It was Bobby, again, who acted, murmuring to the girls he would catch up before coming over to Castiel. "Let's get you home, boy."

Castiel looked in the direction of his apartment and nodded, beginning to walk on with Bobby by his side the whole way, a silent, strong comfort.

"Not to be insensitive by bringing this up..." Bobby started when they arrived at the front of the building. "But are you gonna want to be at Dean's funeral?"

Castiel looked to Bobby, the question he had avoided silently to himself now out in the open, like a knife to his heart. "Yes, I would like to." His voice caught slightly. "He was sent to his father, won't get a military funeral because of the nature of the discharge..." His voice had grown almost mechanical as he listed off the facts. "I would like to be there, but I don't even know where his father lives."

The fact that Dean wouldn't get the honor he deserved angered Bobby, but he pushed it down. "Well, you're in luck. I know John, he's an old family friend. It's part of the reason Dean moved down here, to at least know one familiar face. Anyway, John lives about fifteen miles from here in Lawrence, you could go talk to him."

Castiel's eyes shone with gratitude at Bobby, who was writing down the address.

"I don't know if he'll still be here, haven't heard from him in a while." Bobby muttered, finishing the short note. "But it's your best bet." He finished, handing it over.

Castiel took the paper, clutching to it gently. "Thank you, Bobby." He said softly.

Bobby simply nodded with a gruff "your welcome" and gestured to his apartment. "Go get some rest."

Castiel gave him a small smile, all he could muster, and made his way up to his home, ignoring the glare from his landlord; it seemed everyone knew. Shrugging it off, Castiel entered the familiar surroundings, breathing deeply as he closed his door. He felt weak, with everyone saying how sorry they were, with his seemingly constant tears, with the ever present sadness looming around him. Setting his satchel gently on the coffee table, he went to switch the radio on low and laid on his couch, not bothering to change his clothing. He felt the impending tears, the crushing sadness closing in on him with nothing to focus on, but pushed it away, not wanting to feel weaker.

Instead, he reached over to unpack his satchel, pulling out the clothing and unused paper, then the pens, and finally the pictures, which were tucked away at the bottom. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dean's, and set it aside, breath shaky with effort to keep strong. Looking down, his gaze was filled with the last thing in hand, the picture of his mother. It seemed that whenever he was sad or beaten down, she was always there for him, in spirit, her memories and wisdom resonating with him, one memory sticking out now in his grief, one of the last memories he had before she had died.

* * *

His mother laid still in her bed, her dying condition evident in her graying eyes, the tumor killing her gentle features as she reached out and took Castiel's hand with weak, fragile hands. "Castiel, momma's not gonna be around for much longer."

At his tender age of six, he didn't quite understand, but nodded, sapphire eyes sad and confused. "I don't want you to leave."

His mother nodded, a sad smile playing at the corner of her lips as she gently stroked her thumb over his small hand. "Sometimes we have to leave people behind." She said gently, looking into his eyes. "But when we are left behind, we shouldn't focus on the loss, but rather the time we had with them, because that's what is important."

Castiel's young age did not allow him to fully understand, but still logged his mother's words as truth, whatever they meant.

* * *

He knew what they meant now, and clung to the memory of her words, trying to focus on the good memories he had with Dean, for there were many. His efforts, however, were destroyed when a soft, recognizable song came playing from the radio, the soft lyrics humming through the air.

"_I'll never smile again... Until I smile at you..._"

At this, Castiel broke the wall he had built to try and stay strong, and sobbed, mind filled with images of Dean's smile. At the dance, where they had first met. In the alley way outside of the diner, where he had accepted him. In his kitchen, when he helped with his burnt hand. In the bedroom, after the first time they made love. In the barracks, after their stolen kiss.

Then, Castiel remembered the last time Dean had smiled. It had been when they were walking up to receive orders from the sergeant, when he brushed his hands lightly along Dean's arm. Dean had turned around and gave Castiel a playful smile, and that was it. The last time the expression graced his features before he was gone. At this, Castiel cried out in pain, soft sobs wracking his body as he clung to his mother's picture through the song. Slowly, he fell asleep, tears staining his face, picture in his arms, the last lyrics of the memory inducing song playing out.

"_I know I will never start... To smile again... Until I smile at you..._"

* * *

Castiel did not wake until the next morning, sleeping through the previous afternoon and night. Groggy and emotionally drained, he got up, now fully numb. Slowly, he grabbed a towel and bathed, the warm water soothing on his dusty skin before he got out and dressed, not really feeling anything, just going through the motions. He selected a slightly formal black suit with a blue tie, grabbing his everyday leather shoes, getting ready to go see Dean's father. Running his fingers carelessly through his wet black hair, Castiel shaved quickly and grabbed the piece of paper with John's address on it from his coffee table, along with the picture of Dean.

Taking a deep breath, he collected himself to a state of slight normalcy from the devastating loss and walked to the train station, boarding the first one out that morning. It only took half an hour to get to Lawrence, Castiel silent among all the other talkative patrons riding that morning, exiting the train quickly and quietly to the unfamiliar town. He was going to ask for directions, but found the residential area so small he could simply look at the street signs. So he wandered around for a while, finally finding the street, lined with green trees and white picket fences, John's house the first one on the right. Taking a breath, Castiel clutched Dean's picture in his pocket, approached the door, and knocked.


	10. Hello, Dean

It took a moment, but soon Castiel heard locks clicking, looking up to meet the face of an older man that held some of Dean's features. The very sight caused Castiel's chest to tighten, but he pushed back the feeling and put on a slight smile, all he could muster, and held out his hand. "Hello, John."

John looked puzzled, tired, and emotionally worn, but shook Castiel's hand nonetheless. "Hello. Can I help you?"

At the simple question, Castiel's stomach jumped and tightened at his gruff tone, but he again pushed down the anxiousness. "I was a good friend of Dean's." He looked from his own fidgeting hands to John's now emotionless face. "We were in the army together before..." He shook his head, collecting his slightly fumbled words. "Bobby told me where you lived, because Dean came to you..." His voice caught slightly, but he again pushed it away. "I was just wondering if you were holding a funeral that I could attend."

John looked Castiel over, sizing him up before he stepped aside, motioning him in. "I think we need to talk."

Castiel's stomach did another flip at his cold expression, but he stepped inside nonetheless, sitting at the wooden kitchen table John motioned to. While the older man disappeared into what seemed to be the kitchen for a moment, Castiel looked around at the simple furniture. An old, worn couch, a slightly scratched coffee table, and a radio decorated the small living room, which lead into the small entrance hall he had just come in from. Spotting some pictures near him, Castiel rose from his chair to take a closer look. Pictures of a beautiful woman and a young boy filled his peripheral vision, but the one frame he was focusing on was a slightly fuzzy picture of a young boy, eyes sparkling, smiling widely. Castiel only had to stare for a moment before he realized exactly who he was looking at, who's smile he was gazing at. It was Dean, smiling with the same brightness he did when Castiel had known him, eyes glittering the way they had when Castiel told him he loved him for the first time. At the sight, Castiel fingered at the picture in his pocket, pulling the slightly wrinkled print out, eyes falling onto the same expression as in the hung picture. "Hello, Dean." He whispered to the picture quietly before hearing John's voice from the kitchen.

"So, Bobby sent you?"

Castiel made his way back, sitting back at the table right before John came back in. "Yes. He knew I would want to be here for Dean..."

John's face went cold as he sat down, nursing a nearly full glass of whiskey. "So you were a buddy of Dean's?"

Castiel nodded, fiddling with the photo in his lap he hadn't placed back into his pocket.

John eyed him warily, half buzzed, cold pain in his expression. "You _do _know, right?"

At this, Castiel's heart sunk, he hoped this wouldn't happen. "Know what?"

"Dean was a queer." John said, shame and anger in his green eyes, eyes that looked much like Dean's.

Castiel took a moment to collect his anger, seeing as this was Dean's father. "Yes, I know."

John's suspicious gaze only grew. "Yet you still want to come to his funeral?"

Castiel pushed away his tears at the words, and nodded, collecting his voice. "Yes." He looked to John, who appeared to be putting something together in his mind, a look of realization clouding his features the moment he looked to Castiel's hands, at the picture of Dean.

"You weren't just his friend, were you?" His tone was angry, words drawn out just slightly from the drink. "You know, I was wondering why you weren't still in the service, they don't just let you out because of a shot to the shoulder. Then, I saw you looking at Dean's old picture over there, which also struck me as strange. But now, I see you holding a recent picture of my son, and his death is affecting you far more than it would if you were just his buddy." He looked to Castiel, who had his jaw set, trying to be respectful. "Were you the one he was queer with?"

Castiel met John's hostile eyes, putting the picture back in his pocket, taking a deep breath. "Yes. I was."

John instantly got up, a disgusted look on his face. "You were the one who corrupted my son."

Castiel also stood, backing away slightly, betrayal rising in his gut. This was Dean's _father_, and he couldn't just accept his son had found love. "Loving someone is not corrupting them."

"Oh really? Well then why don't you tell me why he made this decision, when he was _raised_ to know that it was sick and wrong?"

Castiel met John's accusing gaze. "He grew and formed his own opinions, made his own decisions. He decided to love someone, and there is nothing_ wrong_ with that."

John narrowed his eyes, the sadness gone, replaced by anger. "You need to leave."

At his words, Castiel started towards the door, feeling ashamed for the first time about his decision to love Dean. "What about Dean's funeral?" He forced out, eyes downcast, jaw set tight.

John glared at him, a sound of disgust sounding in his throat. Going over to a small desk, he pulled off a thin stack of papers and made his way angrily over to Castiel, shoving the papers into his chest. "If you're so concerned about your _boyfriend_, you make the arrangements. I will not honor my son in his death, when his life was a disgrace." With this, he opened the door and pushed Castiel onto the porch.

Castiel lifted his good arm and grasped the papers, right as he was shoved out on the porch, the door slammed in his face. Eyes brimming with tears and shame, he turned and walked out of the neighborhood, out of the town, until he was at the train station. He clutched the papers the whole short ride home, pushing away the embarrassment he felt. However, the shame didn't leave for long, and came back as soon as he entered the diner, pulled Bobby aside, and explained what had happened.

"That son of a bitch." Bobby growled when Castiel finished his story, fending off the embarrassment as best he could.

Castiel simply kept his head lowered, holding out the papers John had shoved at him. They were the rights to Dean's body and burial, and he didn't know how to deal with them. "I don't know where to start..." He mumbled through the growing lump in his throat.

Bobby held up his hand, leafing through the papers, sadness in his eyes. "I could take care of it if you want."

Castiel nodded, head down, tears falling from his long lashes, unable to speak.

Bobby sighed, putting a strong hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Get some rest, boy. I'll come by when everything's done."

Castiel looked up with grateful eyes, conveying the thankfulness he could not put in words before he turned to go to his apartment, the long afternoon sun casting his slumped shadow onto the pavement while he walked.

* * *

It only took a week. Castiel didn't do much except sleep, barley eating, he didn't feel very hungry lately. It was a relief when Bobby knocked at his door, telling him the funeral was the next day, for Castiel just wanted this all to be over, so he could finally accept Dean's death, instead of fighting the validity of the occurrence. That night, the night before the funeral, Castiel cried himself to sleep, Dean's dog tags cold against his bare chest, a bitter reminder of the icy loneliness that was wrapping it's way around his heart. The next morning felt no different than all the rest, and Castiel simply went through the motions. Mechanical in his every move under the crushing weight of loss, he bathed and dressed, selecting a black suit, black shoes, a black tie, and a crisp white shirt, which he gently tucked both dog tags under.

It wasn't a long walk to the graveyard, but it felt like hours in the slight rainfall as Castiel gently ran his hand along Dean's picture in his pocket, wishing it wasn't true. However, as soon as his leather shoes met the manicured grass, as soon as his eyes fell upon the simple, closed wooden casket that lay waiting to be buried, he let it all go, all the denial, all the refusal, all the held back grief, and he nearly buckled under the weight. Luckily, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo were all there, and huddled close to him for support.

The priest's words were monotone, lifeless, without true meaning, and Castiel drowned his voice out, eyes focused on the casket, what it represented, and who it held. The light patter of the rain above him only brought memories. Memories of Dean and his death on that rainy battlefield, the last time he saw Dean's green eyes close, the last time he saw his chest rise with breath, blood mixing with rain beneath him. It was only Jo's soft touch to his arm that shook him from the painful memory, shook him from the fear.

"They are going to lower him into the ground. Do you want to say anything?" She asked softly, voice breaking only slightly.

Castiel nodded, reaching up to wipe his face of the tears he had shed remembering Dean. "He was my best friend..." It was all he could manage before he broke down, words lost in his throat, tears unrelenting and hot on his face. With the emotion, he stepped forward, jaw quivering and set, and took off his dog tags. He ran his thumb once over his own etched name and set the item on top of the flat pine casket, stepping back with only Dean's tags left around his neck. As the box was lowered, Castiel could no longer look and turned away, hand quivering at his eyes to stop the tears, head bowed before Ellen pulled him into a hug. He stayed clutched to her, silently crying until the first shovel of dirt was placed into the grave. He stood after a long moment, turned, and had his gaze met by the marker, a delicate inscription on the stone.

_ Dean Alexander Winchester_

_January 24, 1920 – April 23, 1943_

_ Loving companion and friend_

At the sight, Castiel felt acceptance wind it's way into his chest, and finally, he could accept Dean was gone, and he was never coming back. The thought alone caused a lump in his throat, but also gave him a sense of peace. He could now clutch to the good memories he had made when Dean was alive, rather than cling to the memory and details of his death.

* * *

It had been a month since the funeral, and Castiel moved through his grief with the support of Ellen, Jo, and Bobby. He still cried himself to sleep most nights, clutching to Dean's picture, but moved into acceptance, and remembered the good times, just as his mother advised all those years ago. He had not been to visit Dean's grave yet, it was still too hard. But today, on a cloudy summer afternoon, Castiel decided he would go, he was ready. The walk, again, didn't take long, and he soon found himself at the graveyard. He started to head for Dean's burial site, but decided to first visit someone he hadn't in a long time.

Standing in front of the older stone, he looked to the familiar surroundings fondly. "Hi, Momma." He said gently, looking to the angel that was carved into the stone. "I'm sorry I haven't been around for a while, life hasn't been that good to me lately." He took a deep breath, pushing down the lump in his throat. "Dean's gone. He was taken from me in the war..." His eyes filled with unbidden tears, his voice choked off. "I miss him. I wish he was still here, he was my source of comfort after you left..." He wiped at his eyes gently. "I just wish you both didn't have to leave." His throat bobbed once as he stepped forward, placing his hand on the stone marker for a moment before heading off to Dean's grave.

The two sites were close, and Castiel only had to walk a couple minutes to reach Dean's. "Hello, Dean." He said, voice thick with the familiar phrase he had uttered so often. "I..." His eyes had already glazed over with tears, making the words difficult. "I miss you, Dean. More and more each day... You were my life, my support, the one who carried me through all my problems..." He blinked out some of the tears, the moisture making trails down his face. "I just want you back, I want to hear your laugh again, I want to hold you again... I wish you didn't leave." He wiped at his eyes, taking in a shaky breath as his gaze fell upon Dean's name. "I will never stop loving you, Dean." With this, it became too much to handle. So, under the crushing loneliness he felt, Castiel walked off, Dean's name tucked close to his chest on the tags, a single song playing out in his thoughts.

"_Within my heart... I know I will never start... To smile again... Until I smile at you._"

_**((Finished.))**_


End file.
